by Laura Iding
“There’s a lock with an intercom. What more do you want?” When he frowned, she let out a sigh. “Jake, it’s very sweet of you to care, but I’m not used to anyone worrying about me,” she admitted.
He knew she wasn’t saying that to get sympathy but because it was the truth. Her dad was gone, her mother leaned on her for support. He imagined she was the one who’d held things together at home. The responsible one. But she didn’t have to carry her burden alone. “You have friends now, people like me who are going to worry about you, so you may as well get used to it.”
The skeptical expression on her face wasn’t exactly reassuring. “Ah, okay. Did you want to come up for a minute? I can show you around.”
His heart leaped with excitement, but he tried not to let his eagerness show. Going up with her wasn’t exactly what a friend would do, but he couldn’t walk away. Not now.
Not from Hannah. “Yes. I’d like that.”
* * *
Hannah silently acknowledged that she was probably making a big mistake by letting Jake come up with her, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself.
Yet she was somewhat surprised and disappointed when he didn’t try to kiss her the moment the elevator doors closed.
“My parents are divorced,” he offered, breaking the suddenly strained silence. “My dad and I, well, we don’t exactly get along.”
Logically, she knew Jake’s situation was vastly different from hers, but she jumped on the slight similarity anyway. “Why not? I’m sure he’s proud of your success.”
Jake slowly shook his head. “No, he was sorely disappointed that I didn’t follow in his footsteps by becoming a lawyer.”
“Why does it matter? It’s not as if being a surgeon isn’t a noble career choice.”
They reached her apartment door, and he stood close, almost too close as she used her key to unlock it. “Yeah, but he had visions of me being a partner in his firm. And because my mother was a physician’s assistant, he saw my choice of becoming a doctor as a betrayal. Like I was siding with her or something.”
His response disturbed her. “You’re not a toy for them to fight over.”
For a moment he stared at her. “I think that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me,” he murmured. “Thank you.”
The frank approval in his eyes made her feel lightheaded. And she realized she’d made a mistake in inviting him in.
“You’re welcome,” she managed, her voice barely above a whisper. Frantically, she tried to think of a way to get him to leave.
Suddenly, he moved closer, framed her face with his hands and then captured her mouth with a devastating kiss.
CHAPTER NINE
HER mind told her to resist, but her body responded to his passion with surprising urgency, flames of desire consuming all thought. She’d wanted this for what seemed like forever! His mouth was like a drug she constantly craved. When his tongue possessed hers, she allowed herself to be swept away in the heat of the moment, either because of her bone-weary fatigue or because of a simple lack of willpower when it came to his kisses.
Because his kisses were truly incredible.
This time he was the one tugging at their clothing, and his warm hands on her bare back made her gasp and press urgently against him.
The shrill ringing of her cell phone gave her pause and instantly the grim reality of her situation intruded, breaking through the veil of euphoria.
Her world was her mother living with arthritis in city-subsidized housing, and Tristan being out of jail on parole. Not an attending doctor who just happened to be in charge of the entire trauma-surgery program.
“We can’t,” she gasped, fighting for breath as she tore herself away to search blindly for her cell phone. Of course it was in the backpack lying on the floor at their feet. She pulled it out of the front pocket, her heart sinking when she realized the caller was once again Tristan. She dropped the phone back into the pocket, letting the call go to voice mail.
“Hannah, let me help you,” Jake urged, breathing heavily, his eyes glittering with desire. “You don’t have to face your family troubles alone.”
She shook her head, taking several steps backward, putting badly needed distance between them. He had no clue just how far apart their worlds were. He didn’t even realize she couldn’t have afforded this warehouse apartment if not for Margie paying more than half the rent. “I’m sorry, but you were right. A personal relationship between us won’t work.”
For a moment Jake stared at her in shock, as if she’d accused him of something horrible. It was painful to watch him draw away from her. “I’m sorry,” Jake said stiffly. “I shouldn’t have crossed the line of friendship.”
Friendship? She might have burst out laughing if every nerve in her body didn’t long for him to pull her back into his arms to pick up where they’d just left off.
The kiss they’d shared had just proven how impossible it would be to try and remain friends. “Don’t worry about it,” she said lightly, as if her heart didn’t feel bruised and battered from the loss. “I just think it would be best if I took your advice about not letting anything get in the way of reaching my goal of becoming a surgeon.”
His gaze narrowed, and she sensed he wanted to argue, but he didn’t. “Don’t worry, I won’t stand in your way. Although I could help, you know. I have a lot I could teach you.”
Just the thought of trying to cash in on their friendship made her feel sick to her stomach. “I don’t want your help, not like this. I want to be treated with the same respect as every other intern on your service.”
There was another long pause, as she sensed he wanted to argue. It took every bit of willpower she possessed to remain standing, as if there wasn’t some sort of magnetic pull shimmering between them. “Is that really what you want?” he asked finally.
“Yes. Please try to understand, this is my career we’re talking about. You have no idea how hard I worked to get into this residency program.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I need to achieve my success as a surgeon on my own.”
“All right, then,” he agreed slowly. “I’ll do my best to treat you exactly the way I would any other resident on my service.”
“Thank you.” She tried to smile, but felt as if her face might break with the effort. Putting the kibosh on their friendship was the right thing to do. Not only because he was her boss on the trauma service but because their lives were completely different. What would he think if he knew the truth about Tristan? About her? The things she’d done?
He’d look at her differently. Judging her. Maybe even treating her differently. As if she weren’t an equal to every other resident in the program.
She couldn’t afford any distractions. Not now. Maybe not ever.
“See you at work, then,” Jake said. He didn’t waste any time in leaving, shutting the door loudly behind him.
She closed her eyes against a wave of pain. Pushing Jake out of her life wasn’t what she wanted, but it was the only solution she could think of.
With a sigh, she pulled out her cell phone and returned her family’s phone calls.
* * *
Hannah stood at the podium in the three-hundred-and-fifty-seat auditorium, which was almost completely full, a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. Just her luck, she was the first intern to be on first call, and now she was the first intern to present her patient at M & M rounds.
Her mouth was cotton-dry and she took a desperate sip of her water, willing the nervousness away. As medical students they’d had to present in front of large groups of people often enough that she’d pretty much become used to it.
However, today she would have to be prepared to respond to questions, and even though she’d studied up on Ehlers-Danlos syndrome until she could recite the pathology forward, backward and sideways, she knew she’d never be able to relax until this nightmare of a presentation was over.
“The first case this morning, Mr. Christopher Melbourne, will be p
resented by Dr. Hannah Stewart,” Jake said, before stepping back and allowing Hannah access to the podium.
“Thank you, Ja—Dr. Holt.” Mortified at her near slip in calling him by his first name in front of the entire surgical-services team, it took her a few moments to focus on her presentation. Hannah clicked on the first slide, where she’d summarized the basics. “Mr. Melbourne was a twenty-one-year-old patient who’d been diagnosed with Ehlers-Danlos syndrome at the age of seven. Ehlers-Danlos syndrome is a rare connective-tissue disorder that is hereditary. The classic signs of this syndrome are weak blood vessels resulting in numerous aneurysms.”
As she spoke, some of her nervousness eased and she went through her slides, displaying Christopher’s scans and using the lighted pointer to show the extent of his massive abdominal aortic aneurysm.
She went through a few more slides, and then finished with the events leading up to his death. “Mr. Melbourne was deemed not to be a surgical candidate, and his condition deteriorated from the moment he arrived in the ICU. We— I started CPR but almost immediately his father asked us to stop. His father also declined an autopsy.” She forced herself to scan the faces in the crowd. “Any questions?”
A hand went up from one of the other attending physicians on the trauma service, Steven White. “Why wasn’t he a DNR?”
She nodded, knowing the abbreviation meant “do not resuscitate.” “Good question. Apparently his parents divorced shortly after the realities of the diagnosis set in, and Christopher’s mother left them to deal with everything by themselves. He and his father were very close. His father knew the prognosis, and during several of Christopher’s previous admissions the discussion of DNR was broached. Unfortunately, Christopher saw being a DNR as giving up and he continually refused to consider that option. He expressed a clear desire to have everything possible done to save his life and his father went along with his son’s wishes. But in the end his father was the one to stop our resuscitative efforts.”
Another hand went up and she inwardly groaned when she saw it was the chief of surgery. “Isn’t there a new technique for repairing aneurysms that could have been attempted?”
She stared at him in dismay. She hadn’t read anything about a new surgical technique for repairing aneurysms. Every physician in the room was staring at her expectantly and she wished the floor would open up and swallow her to save her from this awful humiliation. “Ah, I’m not familiar with the new surgical technique you’re referring to.” Helplessly she glanced at Jake, who was seated in the front row.
Several long seconds passed, and she began to get extremely worried Jake wasn’t going to say anything. Especially after she’d basically told him the other day at her apartment that she didn’t want any special favors.
Finally, he stood and turned to face the group. “There is a new technique for repairing aneurysms but unfortunately it was tried on a patient with Ehlers-Danlos syndrome at Mayo without success. I personally have used the technique in several cases but because Mr. Melbourne was so unstable, I decided the risk outweighed any benefit.”
Feeling mortified that she hadn’t known the correct answer, her research hadn’t revealed any new surgical technique, she swallowed hard and kept her chin high. There were a couple more questions, ones she could address, about the details of the disease.
Finally, the ordeal was over.
There wasn’t time to thank Jake for stepping in to help her as another intern had to report on a case. But Andrea leaned over and whispered, “Good job,” which made her feel a little better.
When the presentations were finished, she hung back, waiting for Jake, who was having a low conversation with Richard. Even though they hadn’t spoken on a personal level since the scene at her apartment, she wanted to thank him for his help during the presentation.
Gregory Matthews, the chief of surgery, walked up. “Dr. Stewart, you’re the resident who placed Mrs. Carmichael’s central line, correct?” he asked, his expression serious.
The knot in her stomach tightened painfully and her mouth went desert-dry. “Yes, sir,” she responded.
“I noticed she experienced a short run of V-tach during the procedure.”
Once again, she wished the floor would open up so she could disappear. But one thing she’d learned early on was that admitting your mistakes went much further than glossing over them. “Yes, sir. In retrospect, I believe I put the guide wire in a little too far because I underestimated the impact of her small frame. I want you to know I did apologize to her for any discomfort I may have caused.”
“Hmm.” For a moment the chief stared at her, and it occurred to Hannah that this wasn’t the best way to obtain the attention of the chief of surgery. Was her central-line complication the reason he’d asked such a difficult question during her presentation, putting her on the spot in front of all her superiors and peers? “Well, Dr. Stewart, I certainly hope you’ve learned from your mistake.”
“Yes, sir, I have.” A tiny part of her wanted some recognition for the way she’d handled the emergency, but obviously that wasn’t going to happen. Get. Over. It.
“Good.” Thankfully, he didn’t say anything more about her skills or lack thereof. He turned away. She caught Jake’s gaze and for a moment she thought he was going to come over to talk to her, but instead he called out to the chief, “Greg, do you have a minute?”
“Sure,” he replied.
Deep in conversation, they walked out of the room together.
As she stood in the near empty auditorium, Hannah realized she might have acted too hastily in pushing Jake out of her life.
Because she’d never felt more alone as she did right now.
* * *
“I should have told you about the V-tach episode during the central-line placement,” Jake apologized to Greg as they left M & M rounds, after hearing his discussion with Hannah. “Dr. Stewart did inform me of the event and I checked on Mrs. Carmichael afterward. Despite what happened, she had nothing but good things to say about Dr. Stewart.”
“Yes, Eva said the same thing to me. She liked Dr. Stewart and was also very complimentary about you, as well.” Gregory sent him a sidelong glance. “What’s the matter—do you think I was too hard on your intern?”
Jake wasn’t sure what he thought. Walking away from Hannah the other day hadn’t been easy. He’d been stupid to give in to the impulse to kiss her in the first place, because one kiss and he’d nearly lost his head.
Trying to be Hannah’s friend had backfired, and she’d made it clear she didn’t want any special favors, yet here he was, sticking up for her with the chief of surgery.
“Not necessarily. Ha—er...Dr. Stewart did make a mistake in judgement. I was called down to the trauma bay for two motor-vehicle-crash patients or I would have put the line in myself.”
“Jake, I’m not blaming you,” Greg said, slapping a hand on his back. “You know how important it is to keep these residents in line.”
“Yeah,” Jake murmured. But he didn’t really believe it. Everything Hannah did was for the benefit of her patients. After that first mistake with the antibiotic, he hadn’t found any other error. He could count on her to ask if there was something she didn’t know, rather than try to bluff her way through it.
Of all the residents on his service, it wasn’t Hannah who needed to be kept in line. His conversation with Richard Reynolds hadn’t gone as well as he’d hoped. The senior resident had become extremely defensive when Jake had cautioned him against slacking off. Claimed he hadn’t realized his pager battery had died.
Jake wasn’t buying the age-old excuse—hell, even the interns knew better—but he let it go. For now.
“If you’re not busy this weekend, we could take the yacht out again,” Greg offered.
“Ah, sure,” Jake managed, even though going out on the yacht was the last thing he wanted to do. Unfortunately, being on the boat would only remind him of the night he’d met Hannah.
After the way she’d kicked him o
ut of her apartment, he was forced to admit she wasn’t acting anything like Allie. And he was having trouble dissecting his feelings toward her. He liked her, and desired her. But he still didn’t think a workplace relationship was a very good idea.
In some respects, he wished he’d never taken her back to the condo he’d happened to be borrowing from Greg that very first night they’d met.
He still had erotic dreams about their night together. And the intense kisses they’d shared since didn’t help at all. Both kisses had been entirely his own fault.
“I’ll call you,” Greg said when the elevator dinged.
“Sounds good.” He turned away, leaving the chief to get into the elevator alone, choosing to take the stairs instead.
Lost in thought, he headed up to the general-surgery floor. He wasn’t on call today, but he needed to talk to Steven White about keeping a close eye on Richard Reynolds. He didn’t trust the senior resident and it would be best to alert Steven to his concerns ahead of time.
But as soon as he reached the top floor, he received a page from the trauma room. With a sigh, he turned around to go back down to the first floor, knowing that Steven would be heading down for the trauma call. If he wanted to talk to him, he’d have to wait until after the trauma resuscitation.
He nearly ran straight into Hannah, who was coming up the stairs. For a long moment they stared at each other.
“Hi, Jake,” she said, stopping in the middle of the stairwell. “I was hoping to find you.”
His heart betrayed him by racing with anticipation. Idiot. He tried to keep his expression impassive. “What’s up?”
She bit her lower lip, looking a bit uncertain. He found the nervous habit far too endearing. He found everything about her far too endearing. “I wanted to thank you. For coming to my rescue during M & M.”
“Yeah, well, there’s no need,” he said in an abrupt tone. “I would have done exactly the same thing for any other intern. The decision to use an advanced surgical technique wasn’t yours to make. Don’t worry, I wasn’t treating you any differently from anyone else.” He moved as if to step around her.
