[The Sons of Lily Moreau 02] - Taming the Playboy

by Marie Ferrarella

  “How did you know about the nicked artery?”

  Viennashook her head, silently indicating that she didn’t really know what he was referring to.

  “You said I needed to be there.”

  Now she understood. And wondered if he did. Her eyes held his for a moment before she said anything. “And did you?” He thought she was referring to his being in the O.R. in general. “Well, yes. The surgeon, Dr. Schulman, needed an assistant for the procedures.” But she already knew that, he thought. Was there something he was missing? “But I’m talking about the fact that if I hadn’t been there, Dr. Schulman would have missed the nicked artery. He’d cauterized it, but for some reason, and this is pretty rare—” he underscored that since Schulman was top in his field “—it didn’t take. There was still a tiny pinprick opened and it was oozing blood. It was just enough to turn your

  grandfather septic if it hadn’t been detected.”

  She nodded her head as if reviewing something that she already knew. “And you detected it.”

  It wasn’t a question. After a moment, Georges nodded. “Yes, I did.” His eyes narrowed as he took back the handkerchief she held out to him. “You knew I would,” he realized out loud. “How did you know?”

  Looking away,Vienna shrugged, trying to push the question, the situation, away, as well. Without success. She knew she owed the surgeon before her more than that. He’d listened to her, come through for her. Because of him, AmosSchwarzwalden , the only living member of her family, was still alive. She owed this man more than she could ever begin to repay.

  But he probably wasn’t going to believe her, she thought. Looking back at him, she shrugged again. “I don’t know how I knew. I just did.”Vienna moistened her lips, then indicated that he should follow her to the closest sofa. She wanted some sort of shelter, for herself and for what she was about to say.

  When he sat down beside her, she continued. “Sometimes,” she confided, leaning her body into his and lowering her voice, “I get these…feelings.” She raised her eyes to his face, waiting for him to laugh. When he didn’t, she experienced a tremendous wave of relief. He believed her. Or, at least,

  he didn’t disbelieve her.

  Not yet.

  She was serious, he thought. “What kind of ‘feelings’?” Georges wanted to know. She didn’t know how better to describe it than that. “Just feelings. Premonitions,” she added in hopes that the word might make it clearer for him. “Like I know something is going to happen. I don’t know why I know,” she added before he could ask. “And it doesn’t happen very often, maybe a handful of times since I was a little girl. But when it does, I’m usually right.”

  It was a lie, but, in her opinion, a necessary one. She had no way of knowing how he might take the information that when these feelings came upon her, she wasn’t “usually” right; she wasalways right. For the time being, she sensed that maybe this would be just a wee bit too spooky a revelation to share with the good doctor.

  Even now, he seemed to be watching her a little uncertainly. Not that she could blame him. If their positions were switched, she’d probably feel the same way.

  In the end, none of that mattered. Her grandfather was going to be all right. Because Georges Armand had been in the right place at the right time. Twice.

  Chapter Five

  Viennalooked tired, Georges thought. Now that her grandfather’s surgery was over, there was no immediate reason for her to stay.

  “Why don’t I take you home?” Georges suggested. “Your home,” he added in case she thought he was suggesting something. Georges was aware of the way his offer might be misconstrued because somewhere in the recesses of his mind, the thought about taking this woman home,his home, had occurred to him. Since she wasn’t a patient of his, there was no conflict of interest—only interest, a great deal of interest—now that the operation was behind him and he could allow himself to really look at her.

  He liked what he saw. A delicate, slender blonde who didn’t fold at the first sign of adversity. It was a good trait to have. Being exceedingly attractive wasn’t exactly a minus, either.

  ButVienna shook her head in response to his offer. “No, that’s all right. I’ll just stay here and wait to see my grandfather.” Maybe she didn’t realize how long it would be before the old man would be moved to his room. “Most likely, your grandfather’s going to be in recovery for a couple of hours.”

  The news didn’t seem to dauntVienna . She sounded almost cheerful as she replied, “I can wait.”

  “And even after they move him, he probably won’t be very lucid. Most likely, he’ll just sleep.”

  She knew the doctor meant well, but he just didn’t understand. The very fact that the old man was alive heartened her. “I can watch him breathe.”

  Georges studied her for a long moment. “He means a great deal to you, doesn’t he?”

  Viennasmiled to herself, thinking how very in adequate that phrase was when it came to expressing how she felt about AmosSchwarzwalden . “You have no idea.”

  Well, if she was going to stay, he didn’t want her being by herself. “Is there anyone I can call to stay with you?”

  Viennadidn’t even pause to think. She shook her head. “We’re relatively new here inSouthern California . We’ve only been inBedford a little over six months.”

  The late hour had done nothing to abate his curiosity about her. Was there a husband in the wings? A significant other she didn’t want disturbed?

  “By ‘we’…” He allowed his voice to trail off, waiting for her to fill in the blank.

  She smiled at his fishing. “I mean my grandfather and me.”

  It wasn’t the most common combination when it came to family members. He heard himself asking, “Where are your parents?”

  He saw a little of the color leave Vienna’s face and knew he’d stumbled onto ground he had no business crossing. “Both gone,” she told him, doing her best to sound matter-of-fact. She didn’t quite pull it off. “They died in a car crash when I was eight. My grandfather was visiting fromAustria at the time and staying with us.” She tried not to think as she spoke. Even after all these years, it still hurt. “When the accident happened, he sold his business inVienna and stayed inAmerica with me.” She looked up at him, wanting Georges to understand why the man meant so very much to her. Why she would do anything for him. “He turned his whole world upside down for me because he didn’t want to take me away from the home where I’d always lived.”

  Selflessness was a rare thing. The closest he’d come to it in his own life was Philippe. His mother, bless her, went by a whole other set of rules. It didn’t make her a bad mother, just different. “Sounds like your grandfather is a hell of a man.” “He is that.” Leaning toward him,Vienna placed her hand on top of his. But it was her eyes that seemed to touch him, her eyes that said more than her words could. “Thank you for saving him.”

  He’d never had a problem accepting gratitude. To him, it was all part of the field he was in. But he couldn’t remember ever seeing it look or sound so eloquent and yet so simple.

  “You’ve already thanked me,” he reminded her. Viennaslowly moved her head from side to side. “Never enough.” And then she grinned as she withdrew her hand from his. “You’re entitled to free baked goods for life.”

  He could have sworn that he still felt her fingers against his skin. “Excuse me?” “We moved toSouthern California for his health,” she told him, “but my grandfather isn’t the kind of man who can stand doing nothing. So he opened a bakery inNewport Beach . He was a pastry chef in his native country,” she said proudly. “In this country, too. When he came toNew York to raise me, he opened up a small bakery offFifth Avenue . After a while, so many people started coming, he had to buy out the store next to him and expand.” By the time he sold his bakery, it was a tremendous cash cow. “I’m sure that once he’s back on his feet, my grandfather’s going to insist that you come by—on a regular basis, most likely.”


  Georges rolled the idea over in his head. He had to admit, this did open up possibilities. He wouldn’t mind seeing the blonde again after her grandfather checked out of the hospital.

  “You work with him?” he asked. She nodded. “I run the business end of it for him.” And had since she graduated with a business degree fromColumbiaUniversity . “But he’s taught me a little about baking. I can’t hold a candle to him—his pastries have to be tied down to keep them from floating away off the plate—but you won’t have to run to the medicine cabinet

  for mouthwash after eating one of mine.” Not if her pastries were anything like her kisses, Georges caught himself thinking. “Well, I’ll have to come by, then.” And then he realized he was missing one crucial piece of information. “What’s the shop called?”

  “Vienna’s Finest.” When he looked at her, amused, she blushed. He found the added shade on her cheeks intriguing. “Grandfather was born inVienna and it was his favorite city when he was a boy. My mother was born there, too,” she added. “She and my father met when he was in the army stationed near there.”

  “How did you come to be named after the city?” he asked. “My mother said she wanted to do something to make her feel closer to her father, so she named me after his favorite place. You have to admit, it’s better than calling me Amos,” she added with a fond smile.

  There was a sadness in her eyes, Georges noticed. A sadness he found himself drawn to even though, at the same time, he wanted to erase it from her soul.

  He changed the subject. “So there’s no one I can call for you?”

  Viennashook her head. “Grandfather knows a lot of people and they’re all very fond of him, but there’s no one to rouse out of bed at one in the morning.” Even if there was, she wouldn’t have allowed it. She couldn’t think of anything worse than getting a call in the middle of the night, saying someone had been hurt and was in the hospital. The call about her parents’ accident had come in the middle of the night. It had taken that long to identify them. To this day, she cringed whenever the phone rang after she went to bed.

  “I’ll be fine,” she assured him with feeling. “I’ll just curl up here—” she nodded toward the sofa “—and wait until they take him to his room.” “Well, then I guess you’ll want some coffee.” He stopped in his tracks and turned around to give her another choice. “Or some chicken soup. They have some in the vending machine by the nurses’ station on the second floor. I can bring you back a container. It’s surprisingly not bad.”

  She noticed that he didn’t saygood and laughed. “Not exactly a ringing endorsement,” she observed. “Doctor’s orders?” “Yeah, maybe.” If that’s what it took to get her to eat or drink something. As he recalled, she’d had neither since she’d gotten to the hospital. “If you’re going to play Florence Nightingale, you’re going to need to keep your strength up.”

  She supposed that made sense.Vienna nodded, making her choice. “Chicken soup, then. But I can get it. You need to go home, or wherever it was that you were going before we all but crashed into you and pulled you into our lives.”

  “It’s too late for ‘wherever.’” If he were being honest with himself, he no longer had a desire to see Diana tonight. He’d gotten too wrapped up in the surgery to wind down enough for the kind of evening he shared with her. “And I can always go home. Besides—” he glanced at his watch, a Rolex that was a gift from his late father “—at this point, I’m closer to my next shift than not.”

  Viennafrowned. The man should have been asleep hours ago. “Now you’re making me feel bad.” At least, for him. But then, if he hadn’t been there, her grandfather might not be in the recovery room right now.

  “No reason.” He hadn’t said what he had to make her feel guilty; it had just been a fact, duly noted. “Didn’t you know? Doctors run on batteries the first ten years of their careers.” He began to walk toward the back elevators. “I’ll be right back,” he promised.

  She nodded, settling back against the cushions. She tried not to sigh. “I’ll be right here.”

  When he returned fifteen minutes later, true to her word,Vienna was exactly where he’d left her: sitting on the sofa closest to the entrance. But her eyes were shut and she appeared to be dozing. Very quietly, Georges placed the container of chicken soup on the circular table in front of the sofa and within her easy reach once she woke up. Straightening, he wondered if he could borrow a blanket from the emergency room in order to cover her. Without the warm press of interacting bodies, the hospital felt cold.

  As he began to tiptoe away, heading toward the E.R., he heard her say, “There’s no reason to tread so softly. I’m not asleep.”

  Georges turned back around to face her. “You’re eyes were shut.” She stifled a yawn, pressing her lips together until it faded. “I was just resting them. I might not be a doctor, but I don’t need much sleep, either. Especially when my nerves are all in knots.”

  She’d taken off her shoes and had tucked her feet under her on the sofa. She stretched out now, swinging them down. Her bare feet brushed against the indooroutdoor carpeting as she reached for the container he’d brought back for her.Vienna pressed a perforated square on the plastic lid and slowly took a sip.

  “Mmm, good,” she commented. Savoring her first taste, she smiled fondly. “Grandfather always says there is nothing like chicken soup to make you feel better.” She paused, as if debating telling him the next part. “I drank a lot of chicken soup that first year after my parents died,” she added softly.

  She raised her eyes to his as she cradled the container between her hands. There was sympathy in his eyes. Or was that pity? Sympathy was all right, but she didn’t want pity. That was what she got for opening up like that,Vienna silently upbraided herself.

  “No word yet, right?” She punctuated her question by nodding in the general direction of the O.R.

  “No,” he confirmed. “And no news actuallyis good news in this case. We want your grandfather’s progress to be unremarkable—and steady.”

  She’d drink to that, she thought. Viennaraised her container slightly, like someone giving a toast. “To unremarkable and steady.” For a second,Vienna ’s eyes shifted over toward him. “And to the remarkable and steady doctor who came to Grandfather’s rescue.”

  Georges shifted to her sofa and took a seat beside her. At this proximity, the bump on her forehead was visible enough for him to examine again. “Sure I can’t talk you into getting a scan of that?” Very lightly, he touched her forehead so she knew what he was referring to. “On me,” he added in case she had no medical coverage available.

  “A CTscan, the gift for the girl who has everything,”Vienna quipped, just before taking another sip of her soup. And then she laughed even as she shook her head. “Not necessary, Doctor. Even my headache’s gone.” Or almost gone, she amended silently.

  He looked dubious. “That could just be shock, masking it.”

  “Or it could be nothing,” she countered. She didn’t want him fussing over her. If anything, she wanted him fussing over her grandfather. “I’m very resilient, Doctor.” And then, out of the blue, she thought of her heart and the way she’d had to put all the pieces together after Edward had walked out of her life. Two years gone in a puff of smoke, just like that, without so much as a backward glance. All because he couldn’t allow anyone else into the narrow world he’d defined for them, not even her grandfather. Not even after he knew how much the man meant to her. She’d misspent those two years. But it didn’t help her heal any faster.

  “I’ve had to be,” she added softly, saying the words more to herself than to him.

  He looked at her for a long moment, curbing the desire to lose his fingers in her hair. “That sounds like it has a story behind it.”

  She raised her eyes to his and tried to smile as she banished the memory away. “It does.”

  “But you’re not going to share it,” Georges guessed after a beat.

  “Not tonight.” And then she smi
led, adding, “Not until I know you better.”

  The words echoed within the all but empty room. They hadfuture stamped all over them. It surprised him to realize that he rather savored the unspoken implication. Ordinarily, when someone made any sort of definite plans that involved him and went beyond the weekend or, in rare instances, the following week, alarms would go off in his head, ringing loudly and urging him to end it because he had to move on.

  Time to get out of Dodge and head for the next sunrise. But there were no alarms, no warning bells. Instead, he found himself wondering about the woman beside him. Wondering and wanting to know things about her. Wanting to fill in the myriad of blanks dancing in front of him.

  This, too, shall pass, he promised himself. It was just something different, that’s all.She was something different, he amended. And different had always intrigued him.

  “Something to look forward to,” he said to her. It earned him another smile. One that seemed to burrow right smack into the middle of his chest.

  In a little while, after the soup had been finished and the coffee grown cold, he went to check on Amos’s progress. The sleepy-eyed night nurse informed him that his patient had responded so well to the surgical procedure, the attending physician had decided to move him out of recovery a full half hour before Amos was scheduled to leave.

  Georges returned to share his findings withVienna . The moment he did, she was on her feet, heading toward the recovery room’s outer doors. They arrived just as Amos was about to be transported.

  Viennafelt tears gathering in her eyes as she looked down at her grandfather. She didn’t bother wiping them away. Clutching the heavy-duty plastic bag that contained her grandfather’s clothes,Vienna walked beside the gurney as the orderly wheeled the sleeping man to the back of the hospital and the service elevators. Georges accompanied them to the third floor, which, for the most part, was designated as the surgical wing.

  Every second light was turned off, giving the area almost an eerie atmosphere as, once off the service elevator, they made their way down the corridor. Amos was placed in a single care unit that was only marginally larger than his space in the recovery room had been. Still, with the right finagling, some space could be found.