by Risk, Mona
“Poor guy. It is terrible to love a woman and not be able to keep her in one’s arms,” said Luc as Olivia collected her papers and closed the medical report.
Olivia read accusation in the tone of his voice and the piercing look he shot her. Refusing to be intimidated, she leveled a sharp gaze at him. If he was looking for a squabble, she was ready to fight back. “I wouldn’t know.” She shrugged and tilted her head. “Never personally met a man with this kind of problem.”
“And how many men are we talking about?” Luc’s jaw hardened. He crossed his arms over his chest.
“What’s the matter with you? Your questions are totally uncalled for.” She didn’t like his inquisitive tone, but her stomach tightened with unexpected hope. Was he jealous?
“Are you dating someone, Olivia?” A deep scowl creased his forehead as he leaned forward, elbows propped on the armrests, fingers tented.
“Hey, enough.” Oh God, could he still care about her? Even after she’d admitted not asking him to come back?
Her traitorous heart somersaulted. She’d walk into his arms without hesitation. But on her terms. No questions asked. Her past forgotten, erased.
“You read all my papers before writing your recommendation, Dr. Crane. Now, I am documenting you, my new colleague. Fair enough.” His voice rang, metallic and controlled. “Tell me.”
Documenting her? Of all the nerve.
“Dr. Toulon-Chatel, may I remind you that you are here on business. You have no right to interfere in my personal life.” A surge of unexpected anger flooded through her, and she banged her fist on the desk.
Why did he demand more than she was willing to give? Why did he expect her to adhere to his sacrosanct mission of truth above feelings?
To think that for a minute she’d imagined he wanted her back, even after she told him the truth about his invitation. Talk about being delusional.
“What personal life, Olivia?” He held her arm, his gaze capturing hers with male authority.
Lips pursed, she thrust backward against her chair. “How dare you?”
“Have you already forgotten how you responded to my kiss last night?”
Luc’s questions slapped her with the strength of a hurricane. The blood drained from her face as she bolted from her chair and pointed to the door. “Get out of here.”
Silence hovered over them for a moment.
“I am sorry, Olivia. I did not mean to upset you. I know I can help you overcome your problems if you just let me.” He raked his hair, his gaze burning her with its intensity, but she was beyond listening.
“Go back to Paris, Luc.” She hissed between gritted teeth. “Go back and stay there. I don’t need your help. I have a beautiful daughter and a successful career. My schedule and my life are proceeding exactly as I’ve planned them.”
“Fine.” He raised both hands in a conciliatory gesture. “But I am stunned by this situation. Help me understand you. We dated for a year. I loved you. Why did you not trust me?”
Loved. He used the past tense. Even if his love had survived for ten years, she’d killed it with her confession. The sadness underlying his question went straight to her heart. She dropped back into her chair, rubbing her forehead to lessen the tension.
Why did he have to linger over the painful past?
Luc touched her hand and enfolded it in his large one. “Olivia, you are a psychiatrist. You know you can’t bury your past forever. Not when you have a teenage daughter. At some point, you will have to deal with it. Can you please tell me why you hid your daughter from me?”
“Why can’t you understand?” She snatched her hand from his and exhaled, wishing she had a magic formula to erase her bitter past. “When I was a student, I was still hiding her from everybody at med school.” Resting her head against the back of the chair, she closed her eyes. “I told you I was terrified for her safety. Melissa is unfortunately the mirror image of her father. I was afraid that he’d find out he has a daughter and hurt us both.”
“Did he ever threaten you?”
Olivia blinked and struggled to suppress her bitterness. Threaten was putting it mildly. “He told me to ‘get rid of it’ when I said I was pregnant. And he got upset when I protested.”
“How upset?” Luc punched the palm of his left hand with his fist.
Feeling her control slipping under his scrutiny, she turned her head.
“Did he hit you?”
She didn’t answer. But he must have read the humiliating truth in her eyes.
“Mon Dieu. I wish I had known. I would have killed this monster. Is that the reason you turned away from me?”
She bit her lip, loathe to tell him how much she’d cried after he left. “Listen, we dated on and off during that year, but you were going back to France, and I wanted to concentrate on my career. Why would we start a long-distance relationship? Besides, I couldn’t trust anyone. Any man after...” Shaking her head, she averted her gaze. Luc was far too perceptive. “I was too frightened.”
“And you still are. You sacrificed a lot because of your inner fear. Don’t you think you need help, Dr. Crane? You need to learn to trust people again.”
“I’m fine now. When Melissa started high school, I introduced her to my boss and colleagues. I’m very proud of her.” She stood to signify the end of this conversation that had drained her.
Damn it. She didn’t need a shrink. After sampling his kisses last night, she roused to a surprising reality. She wanted him again. She wanted her French lover who lavished her with pleasure and tenderness during steamy nights.
His eyes narrowed, Luc crossed his arms over his chest. “But you still have not told your daughter the truth.” The archetypal psychiatrist, he followed the same line of questions.
Irritation flickered through her, and she struggled not to shout at him. “That’s not your problem.” The minute she’d confided in him, he tried to impose his views. “You see why I couldn’t tell you my secret? I didn’t want anyone interfering and destroying my daughter’s peace of mind.”
Poor Melissa. She was doing a fine job destroying her own peace of mind with her sudden inappropriate curiosity. Olivia hadn’t slept much in the last month, more precisely since the day in hell when Melissa had asked to see a picture of her father. Olivia had struggled to deal with her daughter’s request without hurting her, but hadn’t come up with a solution yet.
“She’s entitled to a respectful memory of her father.” Now Jeremy’s presence in Cincinnati added more fuel to her motherly fears. Olivia’s skin prickled. Any indiscretion could seriously jeopardize her daughter’s happiness.
Luc’s gaze sharpened. “Her respectful memory is a lie. You should tell your daughter before she finds out on her own.” He touched her arm gently. “Olivia, remember I told you I went through something similar—but from the other side—and lost my son. It will always hurt.” The little lines around his eyes crinkled at the painful memory. “Would you not advise your patients to face the truth and deal with it?”
Darn, but he’d ruffled her feathers with his patronizing tone. Olivia felt like screaming in frustration. Unbelievable. She had become a patient for him. An interesting patient he was determined to cure. And on top of that, he questioned her professional competence.
“Do you think I don’t realize this?” She eyed him with acerbity. Why couldn’t he see things her way? “I’ve spent years pondering this problem. To tell Melissa about her father or not. I know she’ll be hurt if the truth gets out.” Olivia shook her head, trying to fight the panic that clutched her throat. “I don’t want her to suffer. What kind of mother would intentionally harm her daughter?”
“A loving mother who wants to teach her daughter the right values, as you certainly do.”
She didn’t like the harshness in his voice and the one-way direction of his thoughts. Deliberately ignoring his frown, Olivia squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. She would stick to the decision she made before Luc’s arrival.
�
�Melissa is still too young. I plan to tell her about her father when she’s twenty-five. By then she’ll be mature enough to understand.” Olivia quashed the impulse to grit her teeth. “Now, are you done with this psychoanalysis?”
He stared at her hard. “Yes, for the time being.”
Her pager buzzed. Saved by the bell. She sighed in relief and dialed the number.
“An attempted suicide.” She scowled at him as she yanked on her white jacket. Had she been wrong to protect Melissa and grant her a picture-perfect father?
Damn you, Luc, for unleashing old memories and throwing doubt in my mind.
CHAPTER FIVE
Luc stood at the door of the emergency unit, adjusting the collar of the white coat he’d grabbed from a closet in the hallway. Olivia’s suffering at a young age gnawed at his gut. She hadn’t revealed the name of Melissa’s father, but he hadn’t wanted to push her too hard. Eventually, he would find out. Right now, they had a patient who needed their full attention.
“Can you talk to me, Hailey?” Olivia held the hand of the young woman whose stomach had been pumped.
The patient wept as she rubbed her belly.
“Your stomach hurts? Are you in pain?”
“It’s not my stomach. It’s my baby.” Big tears rolled down the young woman’s cheeks.
“Are you pregnant?” Olivia touched Hailey’s flat abdomen.
Luc flipped through the patient’s chart. “There’s nothing here about her being pregnant.”
“Hailey, did you lose a baby?” Olivia asked in a soft voice. The patient contorted, her body wracked by uncontrollable sobs. “Tell us what happened. We’re here to help you,” Olivia said with the same gentle tone.
Finally, the crying subsided. Hailey hiccupped. “Nobody can help me. My baby is gone.”
“How?”
“I had an abortion. My boyfriend didn’t want a child. He already has three by his ex. He said ‘later.’ When he finds a job. I told him I wanted my baby, but he took me to that doctor.” Hailey punched at her chest as her voice rose. “And I let him do it. I let them kill my baby.”
“When did that happen?” Luc asked as he recorded the information. A classic case of unwanted pregnancy followed by abortion, guilt, depression and attempted suicide.
“Two months ago. I cried day and night. My boyfriend left me. I feel so guilty.” The woman covered her eyes and started crying again. “I want to die. I took all the tranquilizers the doctor gave me.”
“How do you feel now, Hailey? Do you still want to die?”
“No, but I have nothing to live for.”
“Yes, you do. You’re young, healthy and beautiful,” Olivia said with a soothing smile that reached deep into his heart. She, too, was young, healthy and beautiful, and content with what she had. But was she really happy?
“Did you ever work?” Olivia asked her patient. Although she remained calm and composed, he was sure she would go to extra lengths to help this patient.
“I was working as a waitress at night. Had to pay for my schooling before I got pregnant. I wanted to be a nurse.”
“I’m going to have a social worker take care of you. Eventually, you should go back to school and stand on your own two feet.”
“What for? My baby’s gone.”
“You’re young. You can still become a nurse. You’ll be able to help a lot of people. With time you will become independent and strong.” Her voice low but firm, Olivia squeezed the patient’s shoulder as if she wanted to infuse her with her own strength.
Luc stopped writing as he studied Olivia’s determined expression, her narrowed eyes and pursed lips. Independent and strong. She preached what she practiced.
How could he explain to her there was more to life than her empty philosophy? She had been emotionally wounded, a deep wound that he hadn’t been able to guess at and heal ten years ago. She’d put her happiness on hold and lived a lonely life. How could he convince her they belonged together?
As for him... He snorted. He’d tried hard to forget her. To no avail. She had to stop walking away from him, her chin raised, when he wanted her forever at his side.
Hailey sniffled and rubbed the back of her hand over her red-rimmed eyes. “I wish I could be independent. I hate men. They’re all jerks.”
Luc stepped forward. “All men are not bad, Hailey. One day you will meet a good man who will really love you. And when you do, keep him, because men like that are not easy to replace. Correct, Dr. Crane?”
Correct or not, Dr. Crane fiddled with the pager clipped on her belt, ready to hurl it at his head as she glared at him. “Dr Luc, do you mind waiting outside? I’ll continue alone here.”
He stifled a smile of satisfaction. Olivia’s angry reaction was a proof that his words had penetrated her cold façade.
“I will see you later, Hailey. Do not worry, you may have many children one day. This bad experience should not mark your life for ever.” He leveled a pointed look at Olivia. “With the correct therapy, you will eventually put it behind you and learn to move on.” This one is for you, Dr. Crane. They were both psychiatrists, but definitely had a different view of the same problem.
Olivia spun around, giving him her back. “Hailey, I’ll have you admitted into the psych unit for a few days, and then you’ll join a therapy group at the Crisis Center. You don’t need any medicines now,” Olivia said as Luc walked out.
Had he pushed her beyond the limit of her patience? Would his words continue to buzz in her ears and remind her he was here, ready to hold her and help her?
****
To distract himself from Olivia’s problem—his problem too—Luc settled at McMillan’s desk and opened the Rutherford file. He took out the pictures and studied them. The man was good-looking, neat and presentable, with an interesting cleft in the chin à la Michael Douglas. On thorough examination, Luc thought the patient’s head tilted in an I-am-above-the-law arrogance and the smile extended into a cruel line.
After reading psychiatric references that could help in the Rutherford case for half an hour, Luc shut the book and glanced at his watch. He should go back and soothe Olivia. He had riled her enough with his direct questions and thinly veiled comments. Leaving a breach in their professional relationship was not advisable. He’d be wise to avoid questioning her for a couple of days until she calmed down.
He knocked on her door and entered her office, ready to appease her with a charming smile. “Olivia—”
He stopped dead in his tracks.
A teenage girl sat in Olivia’s leather chair, a cell phone clamped to her ear, her feet crossed on top of the desk. She stood immediately with an “I’ll call you back” and shut her phone, staring at him with obvious curiosity.
“Hi, I’m Melissa Crane.”
“Bonjour, I am Dr. Luc, a colleague of your mother.”
“Oh, the visiting French doctor.” A smile spread over her face. “She told us about you. Having fun in Cincinnati?”
“Very much. Especially at this time of the year. The foliage is gorgeous.” Luc scanned the tall girl, a delightful teenager with pale blue eyes, full lips and a blond mane cascading over her shoulders and back.
“I’m waiting for Mom. She didn’t come home last night for dinner, so I decided to surprise her today.” Melissa turned her head toward the door.
Luc studied her perky profile, the high cheeks bones, and the slight upturn of her delicate nose. He stifled the nagging feeling of déjà-vu. Of course, it was normal that Olivia’s daughter looked familiar, in spite of her different features and fair coloring.
She faced him again, her light blue eyes glittering like stardust. “I’m taking my mom to lunch.”
“That is a good idea, Mademoiselle. I am sure your maman will be delighted to see you.”
“Mademoiselle?” She giggled. “I like that. Everyone around here treats me like a kid. Especially Mom.”
While mother and daughter entertained each other, he’d finish reading the Rutherford case. His
thoughts flew to the file he’d left on McMillan’s desk and the pictures of the blond patient.
The blond patient?
His gaze flipped back to Melissa, his mind drawing a jittery parallel between the features of Jeremy Rutherford and the teenager standing in front of him.
Same light blue eyes, same profile, and same wide lips. And the same sandy colored hair. Even the little dimples in the round cheeks and delicate chin. Olivia had mentioned Melissa was the mirror image of her father.
I knew this man years ago.
Olivia’s words played back in his brain and pounded with a new meaning.
He hurt someone I care about. I won’t be objective.
Luc didn’t doubt for a second that the woman Jeremy had hurt was Olivia herself.
The psychotic patient was Melissa’s father?
Mon Dieu, mon Dieu! Jeremy Rutherford. Could it be possible?
His jaws clenched, Luc leaned against the doorframe and frowned, putting in place the missing piece of the puzzle. A muscle jerked at the base of his throat as he studied Melissa’s features.
It all made sense. Olivia’s refusal to deal with the Rutherford case. The secrets she staked deep in her heart. Her fear for her daughter.
For years, she’d sacrificed her happiness to avoid any contact with Jeremy and now the devil from her past had come to haunt her.
Conflict of interest. A huge one.
“Dr. Luc, what’s wrong? Are you sick?”
Melissa’s voice sounded exactly like her mother’s.
“A slight headache.”
He wasn’t lying. Blood thumped against his temples, and his mind swirled with confusing thoughts. He had to sort through Olivia’s many secrets and organize his approach to the Rutherford case.
How would he remain impartial while evaluating this patient? The man who had abused Olivia and tried to force her to abort her baby. The same man who’d indirectly caused her to mistrust all men and reject Luc’s love.
