by Amy Ruttan
NEW YORK CITY DOCS
Hot-shot surgeons, taking the world by storm…by day and by night!
In the heart of New York City, four friends sharing an apartment in Brooklyn are on their way to becoming the best there is at the prestigious West Manhattan Saints Hospital—and these driven docs will let nothing stand in their way!
Meet Tessa, Kimberlyn, Holly and Sam as they strive to save lives and become top-notch surgeons in the Big Apple. Trained by world-class experts, these young docs are the future—and they’re taking the medical world by storm.
But with all their time dedicated to patients, late nights and long shifts, the last thing they expect is to meet the loves of their lives!
For fast-paced drama and sizzling romance, check out the
New York City Docs quartet:
Hot Doc from Her Past
Tina Beckett
Surgeons, Rivals…Lovers
Amalie Berlin
Falling at the Surgeon’s Feet
Lucy Ryder
One Night in New York
Amy Ruttan
Available now!
Born and raised on the outskirts of Toronto, Ontario, AMY RUTTAN fled the big city to settle down with the country boy of her dreams. When she’s not furiously typing away at her computer she’s mom to three wonderful children, who have given her another job as a taxi driver. A voracious reader, she was given her first romance novel by her grandmother, who shared her penchant for a hot romance. From that moment Amy was hooked by the magical worlds, handsome heroes and sigh-worthy romances contained in the pages, and she knew what she wanted to be when she grew up. Life got in the way, but after the birth of her second child she decided to pursue her dream of becoming a romance author.
Amy loves to hear from readers. It makes her day, in fact. You can find out more about Amy at her website: amyruttan.com
One Night
in New York
Amy Ruttan
www.millsandboon.co.uk
Dear Reader,
Thank you for picking up a copy of One Night in New York.
I had a lot of fun writing this book, and I had a great time plotting out this series with my fellow quad authors Tina Beckett, Amalie Berlin and Lucy Ryder. Lots of giggling was to be had.
In its past, New York City was the city where immigrants found a chance to start again. It’s a city that’s alive and vibrant. It’s the kind of city my heroine needs. It’s a place where she can find herself again after her heartbreaking divorce.
My hero is no stranger to New York, but he too finds out who he really is and who he is as a doctor, just about to start on the path he’s always dreamed of and step out of the shadows as a brilliant pediatric surgeon. New York is the city of dreams, after all.
To paraphrase that great song ‘New York, New York’ and Ol’ Blue Eyes: If my characters can make it here, they can make it anywhere.
I love hearing from readers, so please drop by my website, amyruttan.com, or give me a shout on @ruttanamy
With warmest wishes
Amy Ruttan
This book is dedicated to my fellow quartet authors:
Tina Beckett, Amalie Berlin and Lucy Ryder.
Thank you, ladies, for such an awesome experience.
I had so much fun creating an exciting world with you and bringing West Manhattan Saints to life.
Table of Contents
Cover
About the Author
Title Page
Dear Reader
Dedication
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
EPILOGUE
Copyright
CHAPTER ONE
Manhattan, winter
THE BAR WASN’T particularly packed tonight, but that wasn’t overly strange as it was the middle of the week. Still, as Sam Napier peered around the glitzy nightclub on the Upper West Side, far from his local watering hole in Brooklyn, there were a few glitterati mingling, drinks in their hands, trying to escape the wintry blast of cold air outside. It was a good night to people-watch and he had nothing else to do.
He leaned back against the bar, sipping his Scotch and people-watching. This was a place where he could just melt into the woodwork, if there was any wood in the chrome and glass bar, and no one knew who he was. It was nice.
The local watering hole in Brooklyn was great, but there would be a ninety-nine point nine percent chance that he would run into someone from work and/or one of his roommates and tonight he didn’t want that. He didn’t need to talk about how there was a new attending who could possibly mess with his future at West Manhattan Saints Hospital.
Besides, Enzo, his closest friend, had paired up with Sam’s roommate Kimberlyn and those two had recently moved to Tennessee. His other roommate, Tessa, had moved out and there was no way he could handle the girl talk with Holly his only current roommate, though some more were moving in. Just the thought of her chattering made him shudder.
There was no one to commiserate with. No close friends and those he was close to wouldn’t expect him to open up anyway. He kept most things to himself, but tonight he really needed to drown his sorrows. No one would understand that one of the department heads who had a say in his appointment as a pediatric fellow had retired and a new replacement surgeon had been appointed. And apparently the surgeon replacing Dr. Powers, the former Head of Obstetrics and Maternal-Fetal Medicine, was one of the top surgeons in the field and a slave-driver.
But Sam didn’t see the need for maternal-fetal medicine at West Manhattan Saints. Dr. Amelia Chang, Head of Pediatrics, could handle most issues in utero with the OB/GYN, and even then they could send the patient on to a larger hospital if necessary.
In all Sam’s years at West Manhattan Saints he’d barely seen Dr. Powers in surgery. So why did she need a replacement for such a small department? The obstetrics department at West Manhattan Saints was not large. The hospital was known for trauma, with Dr. Ootaka at the helm, and Pediatrics.
This new attending was a waste of money as far as Sam was concerned. But not surprising, given who the chief of surgery was. This new attending was probably BFFs with Professor Gareth Langley.
Great. Just what he needed: another egotistical, maniacal surgeon like the chief of surgery at West Manhattan Saints or, worse, like his mother…
At least he’d learned one thing from her numerous failed relationships and dalliances: successful surgeons couldn’t have a family.
“You need to find someone, Sam. You’re lonely.” Kimberlyn’s plea popped into his mind. “I know some nice girls,” she had said repeatedly.
Sam had always rebuffed her. The last thing he wanted was a relationship. He didn’t have time for one. Still, he kind of wished sometimes he had someone, even if just for a moment.
Sam was knocked out of his reverie and his drink was splashed down the front of his sweater when he was whacked by an icy wet scarf.
“Holy crackers! It’s cold out there,” a big puffy yeti said, sitting down on the bar stool next to him as it began to pull off its layers.
“Bloody hell…”
“Oh, my God. I’m so sorry.” As the last layer came off a beautiful redheaded vixen reached for a napkin and began to dab at his sweater in a futile attempt to soak up the expensive Scotch that had seeped into the fibers. “I can’t believe I did that. I didn’t see you there.”
“Obviousl
y not.” Sam wiped away the chunk of snow that was melting in his eye. “Then again, I don’t how much you could see with that many layers on. It’s not that cold outside, lass.”
Her brown eyes widened. “You’re Scottish.”
“Half,” he mumbled, snatching the napkin from her hand and trying to fix the damage to his sweater himself. When he got agitated his accent came out thicker. His mother was American, but since his father had mostly raised him in the Highlands he had more Scot in him than Yankee, though he had been born in Manhattan at the hospital he was currently completing his residency in.
“I hope it’s not designer,” she said with concern.
“What’s not?” Sam asked confused.
“The sweater.”
He chuckled. “Hardly. No, it’s not designer. I just like it, that’s all.”
And he did. His gran had knitted it for him. It was a blue-gray V-neck sweater, which had seen better days, but it gave him a sense of home.
She smiled, a lovely warm one that made his heart skip a beat. There was something about red-haired women that made him melt just a bit. Maybe it was something about gingers sticking together, even though his hair was more auburn and hers was a bit more mahogany than the classic ginger.
Bloody hell. Why am I analyzing hair color? How many drinks have I had?
Then he remembered the Scotch currently soaked into his sweater had been his first and he’d only had a taste of it.
“I’m really sorry. Can I replace the drink I spilled?” she asked.
“That you can do.”
“I have to say I’m disappointed.”
“How so?” he asked.
“I thought you were going to answer me with ‘Aye.’”
Sam laughed. “No, I only save that for when I’m really tetchy. My name is Sam, by the way.”
“Mindy.” She held out her hand and he took it in his, brushing a quick kiss across her knuckles, which made her gasp.
He heard it and it pleased him to know he’d gotten that response out of her. Something his dear old dad had taught him.
“A pleasure to meet you, Mindy.” Sam was still holding her hand as she stared up at him for a moment, her eyes wide, her pink lips open, but only for a moment then pink tinged her cheeks and she took back her hand.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She cleared her throat and turned to the barkeeper. “One Merlot and a…?”
“Scotch.”
The barkeep nodded and moved away. Sam took the bar stool next to her. “So, I take it you’re not from around these parts.”
“What makes you say that?” she asked.
“You were bundled up enough to make a trek to the South Pole.”
Mindy chuckled. “I’m really not used to the cold.”
“I gathered that.”
The barkeeper returned with their drinks and Mindy slid him some money. He could just say thanks for the drink and move on, really he should, but she was just the kind of distraction from his own problems that he was looking for. It had been some time since he’d indulged, he’d been so focused on his residency. He never entered into one-night situations, because he refused to follow in the same footsteps as his mother, but maybe tonight if Mindy was interested he could relent, just a bit.
“Where are you from?” Sam asked.
“California. Born and raised. And where are you from?”
“Here,” Sam replied, winking at her.
“Oh, come on. I told you mine, now tell me yours.”
“Well, I was born in Manhattan, but I was raised in the Highlands by my father.”
“How interesting.” She took a sip of her wine. “Was he a laird?”
It was meant as a tease. He knew it. It always was.
“Aye, he is.”
Mindy choked on her wine. “You’re not serious?”
“I am. Very. Did you not hear my ‘Aye’?”
“I thought that was only saved for when you were tetchy?”
“Or when I’m very serious.” He winked at her.
“He’s a laird?”
“It’s not as romantic as you’re thinking it is. It just means he owns a large bit of land in the Highlands. He doesn’t serve out justice to his lowly tenants. He’s not nobility.”
“So what does that make you?”
“Make me?”
“Or are there other heirs apparent?” She winked as she took a sip of her Merlot.
Sam laughed. “I’m the eldest, but really it doesn’t make me anything other than what you see here.”
Mindy cocked her head to one side. “And here I thought I was talking to royalty.”
Sam chuckled. “Hardly. So what brought you from the warm confines of California to the harsh and bitter environment of Manhattan?”
“You’re mocking me, aren’t you?”
“Just a wee bit.”
Mindy sighed and tucked a long strand of mahogany hair behind her ear. “A new job and a new…start.”
“I can tell from your tone that you wanted to get as far away from California as possible.”
“How can you tell that from my tone?”
“It was tight, like you were in pain.”
What are you doing?
As Mindy glanced over at the devilishly handsome man, warmth spread through her, a zing of something she hadn’t felt in quite some time.
Maybe it’s the wine?
No, not the wine. Even when she’d still been with Dean, the last few years of their marriage had been detached and they had just been going through the motions. Of course, she’d thought it was their careers that had kept them apart, she’d never suspected someone else and she had certainly never expected that someone else to be her best friend and colleague. Dean and Owen’s betrayal cut her to the quick. She’d trusted Dean. He had been her husband and he betrayed her.
Trust was something she never gave freely. She’d been burned so many times by so-called friends. She’d thought she’d been able to trust her husband. The one person who’d held her heart. So when he’d done the unthinkable she’d had a hard time believing in any one else, in trusting another person. Intimacy was a huge leap of faith, letting someone see that vulnerable side to you.
So, yeah, it had been a long time since she’d even contemplated thinking about a man in a sexual way. It had been a while since a tingle of excitement at the possibility of something more had revved her motor, but when his lips brushed against her knuckles suddenly the cold winter temperatures had no longer bothered her.
Sam’s blue eyes were twinkling mischievously. He was a bad boy. There was no mistaking it, but the way he leaned against the bar, the emotional walls he had in place, the devilry in those blue, blue eyes. Sam was the kind of man her mother had always warned her to steer clear of. Yet it had been the nice man, the respectable one, whom her mother had approved of, who had betrayed her trust.
Besides, she was just flirting with this handsome heir of a Scottish laird in an upscale Manhattan bar. It didn’t have to go any further than this.
Why not?
It might be nice to cut loose and celebrate a new life, at a new hospital. Tonight she didn’t have to be a world-renowned maternal-fetal surgeon. Tonight she just had to be Mindy. She’d never see this guy again. He wouldn’t use her or hurt her.
She could just be Mindy. Lonely and scared out of her mind Mindy, but still…
What was he saying? Oh, yes, he thought she sounded in pain. Great.
She giggled nervously.
Maybe he sensed she needed a change of topic because he asked, “So, what makes me so funny, then? Is it the accent that amuses you so much? Or is it my boyish charm?” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, making her melt just a bit.
“Boyish charm for sure.” She smiled at him, which was easy to do. She couldn’t recall ever smiling and flirting with Dean, but, then, she had always been a wallflower. Shy and meek. This was new, it felt good. She picked up her drink and took a sip, wincing at the burn of alcohol. Hone
stly, she didn’t know why she’d ordered wine, she wasn’t much of a drinker.
“Something wrong with your wine?” Sam asked.
“No, nothing. It’s fine. I don’t usually go to bars.”
“Then can I ask why you wanted to brave the harsh, bitter environment of winter to come to a bar and suffer through what looks to be a very painful glass of wine.”
Mindy shrugged. “As I said, I’m new here. I wanted to meet people.”
Sam leaned over. “Well, you’ve met me.”
“You’re laying it on very thick now.”
“It amuses me to do so.” He cleared his throat and then swigged down the last of his Scotch. “There, that’s better. My mellow American accent is back. What do you think?”
“I prefer the Scottish one.” Then she giggled.
It was pathetic that she was giggling. It had been a while since she’d dated or flirted, but when you spent your whole career operating on such delicate humans as fetuses you didn’t really have much of a life. Not when their tiny little lives were in your hands. Not when their mothers’ lives were in your hands. She spent a lot of time in research, in ORs, sitting by patients’ bedsides.
Too many happy families depended on her and being one of the top surgeons in her field meant she was in high demand.
There was no time for socializing or anything else. She’d met Dean when they had both been interns, learning under the same surgeon. They’d both been maternal-fetal specialists. They’d both been on the same trajectory.
Or so she’d thought.
“Dean, don’t you want to have kids? I’m ready. I think we’re ready.”
“We’re not ready, Mindy. You just think you’re ready. You work around kids and babies all day long. We have to focus on our careers now. Once we’re both really settled and in the top of our chosen fields, then we’ll settle down. We’ll have a couple of kids.”
And then that had never happened and now it wouldn’t happen because, number one, she was no longer Dean’s wife, number two, he was still in California, and, number three, Dean was gay.
There had been a lot of sniggers in the private practice she’d worked at in Los Angeles with Dean about how she’d found out he’d been cheating on her. Mindy had known Owen was gay, he had been her best friend. She didn’t care that Dean was gay, it was the fact that he’d gone behind her back and cheated on her with Owen and that the two of them had been carrying on for over a year and hadn’t told her. She’d shared her insecurities with Owen about her marriage. She’d trusted him too and he’d used those secret hurts and concerns against her.
