Defiance at that slight hint of male condescension for a frail female surged through Ella. Lifting her right hand to his chest, she straight-armed him to a safe distance. She could feel the erratic beat of his heart under her hand, feel the heat flowing off his skin, feel the crinkle of springy chest hair beneath his starched shirt. Her fingers curled into the crisp fabric, grasping a handful of Egyptian cotton. Levi’s eyes opened in surprise, his nostrils flared with…arousal.
“You shouldn’t be out here alone. It’s almost dark. What if you fell?” His voice was low and rough.
“What if I fell? I’d pick myself up. I’m not an invalid.” Ella retorted, her fingers digging deeper into his shirt, into the skin below. “I’m not an invalid,” she repeated. “I’m not even really your patient.” His eyes widened and his indrawn breath was sharp. His chest swelled beneath her hand.
The frustration of the afternoon combined with the hard male feel of him under her fingers, the exotic fragrance on the breeze mixing with Levi’s sensual scent. Ella moved into him, holding onto his shirt as though she needed an anchor from the emotional storm that was buffeting her. Only the space of her hand separated their chests. She could feel his breath on her face. That faint movement of air on her skin was all the incentive she needed. Ella leaned up and planted a warm wet kiss on the corner of Levi’s jaw.
It was as though her kiss had uncaged a hungry animal. Levi wrapped one arm around her waist, his other hand cupped her chin and turned her face up to receive his lips as they crashed down on hers. He held her tightly but gently, as though his doctor’s brain was whispering to him to be mindful of her still-healing shoulder.
Ella reached around him with her good arm pulling him closer. Her embrace spurred him on to deepen the kiss, forcing her lips to open to his. His tongue swept over her teeth, slightly penetrating her mouth. The kiss branded her yet there was restraint. And tenderness. Surprised, she found she wanted more. She pulled on his lower lip, licking it. Levi groaned deep in his throat, his hands flowing up her back to bury themselves in her wind-blown hair, holding her head so his lips could feast on hers.
She felt consumed. But she was not afraid. Ella was more astounded at the absence of fear than she was by the awakening of passion. She pulled away slightly from Levi, abruptly ending the kiss. Her eyes searched his face. He looked confused. And hungry. Before he could reach for her again, she stepped around him and began the short trek to the path.
“Wait!” She spun around at the sharp crack of his voice. “Wait. It’s too dark. Let me help you.”
“You’ve helped me enough today, Doc. I can find my way.” Gaily laughing, she repeated her new mantra: “I’m not an invalid.” She disappeared onto the path, concealed almost immediately by the dense foliage bordering the narrow walkway. She was pulling away in her Mustang when Levi burst onto the shoulder of the road. Her laughter echoed on the evening breeze and she sent him a cocky wave with her good right arm. I’m back. I’m good. And I’m back!
Chapter Five
Thirty-six hours later, Levi was still frustrated. Dressed in his surgical scrubs, reviewing Tommy Sullivan’s MRI, outside the small surgery in the outpatient clinic attached to the office of Ortho-FL, he was still fuming. And the object of his frustration was not in the next room waiting for him to perform surgery and save his baseball career. No, she was upstairs, in another one of her cute exercise outfits, sweating and moaning with Cory! Levi had spotted Ella’s fiery red sports car in the lot when he pulled in to his spot early that morning.
She must have the first appointment with Cory. He had half a mind to climb the stairs to the second floor and give her a good talking to about the risks she took wandering around on a deserted beach with a barely healed massively repaired rotator cuff. And what was that kiss all about? The previous two times he’d seen her she was skittish and shy. Then she bumps into him on the beach and in seconds, her mouth was on him. Levi flushed at the memory.
“Doc?” A questioning voice interrupted his reverie. He looked away from the MRI into the quizzical eyes of Renee, his PA. Her crinkly black hair peeked out from the edges of her surgical cap. Her chocolate brow was furrowed with concern. “You about ready, Doc? The patient is prepped, he’s had his block, and we’ve got him in your suite. We’re on the clock. So…” Renee waved an elegant hand in the vicinity of surgical area. “You want to scrub and gown so we can get on with this one? You’ve got five more on the schedule today.”
“Yeah, let’s go. I just wanted to check the MRI one more time. Have you got his arm stabilized for me?
“Yes, sir. He’s all ready for you. He’s got a lot of ink on his shoulder and bicep so I made your marks in green today. Nice art, though. Hated to mess it up even temporarily.”
“Really, what’s he got? Naked ladies?” Levi followed Renee through the swinging door to the scrub area that separated the anteroom from the surgery. Her rich laughter filled the small space as they washed hands and forearms in sterile soap.
“Nope. He’s got a whole pirate ship and a mermaid posed on a rock. She’s a beauty. Wait ’til you see her.” They were laughing as they pushed their way into the operating room. The frigid air hit Levi in the face and he shivered as one of the nurses helped him into his surgical gown and gloves.
“Damn, it’s freezing in here. What asshole turned the thermostat down to 32?” Derisive laughter answered his question. Everyone knew he liked the operating room chilled to a brisk 65. He worked up a sweat—positioning patients, cutting and stitching—on his feet for hours.
His young patient was sedated, snoring gently into the oxygen mask. He was covered in green surgical drapes, except for his left shoulder, which had been left bare. As reported by Renee, the shoulder was covered in what looked to be a whole pirate tableaux, with a gorgeous semi-naked woman front and center. Her bare breasts were covered by a ribbon with the name Seraphina in cursive. The picture was made eerie by the orange dye of the Betadine that covered the surgical field. Three large green X’s marked the spot for his tiny incisions—one for the laparoscope and two for the repairs.
Levi stepped up to Tommy’s side, checked on his vitals, and moved into his zone. He glanced around the room. Two walls were covered with a mural of his property, featuring beach and palm trees and turquoise water. And his toys. Every time he bought a new piece of equipment, Dan, the local artist responsible for the mural, was called in to add it to the ever-changing landscape. Levi grinned as one of the staff flipped on his surgical soundtrack: Jimmy Buffett. When he was operating in New York, it had been Billy Joel. But when he moved to Florida, Levi switched to the singer most associated with the Keys and the Gulf. “Son of a Son of a Sailor Man” echoed through the room.
“Okay, ladies. Let’s rock and roll.”
An hour later, Levi pushed the glasses from his eyes and straightened. He signed his initials and the date near the mast of the pirate ship before he started the bandages. Satisfied the patient was ready to be moved, Levi nodded to Renee to release Tommy’s arm from the suspension gear. Holding the limp arm, Levi gently lowered it as the straps were unfastened. Renee pulled the sheet up over Tommy’s chest and snapped the guardrail in place. “Give him about 45 minutes, Doc, then come by Recovery. You’ll have time to work on Mrs. Reilly’s wrist. She’s across the hall. Ready to go.”
The next several hours passed in a blur. As always, Levi was Dr. Hottie Rock Star, totally focused on his patients, totally immersed in each surgery he was performing. But as soon as he finished each operation, the beautiful and mysterious mystery writer immediately popped to the forefront of his mind. He managed to keep her out of his thoughts when he spoke to his groggy patient in Recovery. Levi explained what he had accomplished in the surgery to Tommy’s wife, Sara, a pixie-ish redhead, with a baby bump just beginning to show, while she clutched the young pitcher’s free hand and shushed his still-drugged comments.
“I’ll see Tommy in two weeks in my office. Until then, he should be fine with the medicatio
n I’ve prescribed and the very simple exercises on the sheet he’ll receive with his discharge papers. He is to lift absolutely nothing with that arm, understand?” Levi looked from Sara to Tommy to confirm his instructions. Sara nodded affirmatively but Tommy merely grinned and murmured, “Whatever you say, Doc.”
“Are you staying with him or is he going to rehab?”
“I’m taking the time, I’ll stay with him.” Sara smiled at Tommy and lifted his good hand for a sweet kiss.
“Well, you know it’s a lot of work the first few days. Are you getting any help? From family, maybe?” Renee rolled her eyes at his questioning, then tapped her finger on her watch to remind him he had other patients to see.
“My folks live over in Naples so they’ll be with us most of the time. I think we’ll be fine.”
Later, in the locker room of the clinic, Levi stripped off the surgical scrubs he’d been wearing all day. Tossing them into the laundry bin, he turned to stare at his reflection in the full-length mirror next to the lockers. His bare chest was tan and well-muscled, both from his work and his work-outs. The center of his chest was covered by a light dusting of black and silver hair, a line of it curling down to his navel then disappearing into his boxers. He still looked pretty good, he thought as he dressed. He could still play a mean game of softball, his golf scores made the resort pro scowl and he could work long sweaty hours on his property without a break. And he’d never had any problems with the ladies. Well, except one.
Back in his office, Levi shut the door, bone-tired and on edge. He looked around his well-appointed space, comfortable leather chairs, teak desk and tables, local art on the walls, next to his diplomas and awards. He had spent so much of his life in the pursuit of a medical degree then mastery of his specialty. He’d made all of his professional dreams had come true. It had cost him more than tuition money and long hours, though. His career had cost him his family.
After completing his internship and residency, he had followed his good friend, Len Fein, to Albany. They became the rising stars of the well-established orthopedic surgery practiced founded years before by Fein’s and Fitz Ford’s grandfathers. Soon, Levi and Michael became known as the Gold Dust Twins because everything they did turned into more prestige and more money for them and the practice
A brilliant marriage to the cherished daughter of a local judge had followed a few years later. Anne Katherine Clinton was a patrician blonde, as well-known for her tennis skills as for her charity work. She did not waste her art history degree from Skidmore, having become the youngest patron of the Albany Institute of Art. But she truly excelled at entertaining. Their first years together had been happy, as they built a home on land that had been in her family since the time of the Dutch patroons. The strain started with the difficulties in her first two pregnancies. A miscarriage followed by the stillbirth of their son sent her into a deep depression. Levi had tried to be supportive and understanding but he knew now what he had buried then: he was more focused on his career than he was on his wife. After five years, Anne had finally given birth to twins.
He glanced at the gold-framed portrait of his daughters that sat on his desk. Katlyn and Kara. His heart ached as he gazed at their perfect blonde beauty, just like their mother. Anne’s announcement that their marriage was over almost four years ago had put the period on the sentence he had been serving for at least ten years. Levi thought the birth of the healthy twin girls would fill the ache in Anne’s heart. He didn’t realize the girls would fill her life so completely that Levi would become nothing more than an escort to society events and an unlimited source of funds for Anne’s redecorating and travel.
“The girls will be attending Emma Willard in the fall, just as I did. They’ll board there to take full advantage of the experience.” She had coldly announced to Levi one spring evening.
“Wait. I think Emma’s a great school and the girls already love it after all the time they’ve spent there with you. But we live close enough for them to commute. They’re too young to be living away from their parents. And I’ll miss them.”
“You’ll miss them? You’re never here. If you are not at the hospital or the clinic or the office, you’re off with Doctors Without Borders for weeks at a time. I’m the one who has to drive them everywhere, be here every night and every weekend. I have things I want to do and it will be easier all around if they live at school. They won’t have to get up early to get a bus to school or get home late. And I’ve already sent the deposit to the school for their tuition and their room and board. They’ll move in the last week of August.” Her frigid voice was final.
Levi was speechless but before he could gather his thoughts, Anne added “And you can move out then, too. There is no need for you to stay here. Our marriage has been a pretense for years. You can stay at your place in the hills or get one of those new condos downtown. You’ll be closer to the office there anyway.”
And that had been the end of his marriage. He toted the twin’s belongings into one of the gargoyle-guarded dormitory buildings on Emma Willard’s beautiful campus one hot August morning and, after teary hugs and kisses, he left. No longer a husband and barely a father.
Six months later when his partners voted to open an office in Florida to accommodate their many patients who wintered there, he signed up to move to Mimosa Key. Anne pushed their divorce through so he was single again before the girls started their second year of high school. She had been right. Kara and Katlyn were so caught up with their life at Emma they barely had time to text him, much less talk on the phone, or spend any time with him. He saw them briefly when he was back in Albany on business and got a few weeks with them in the summer but they had no interest in Florida and not much more in him.
Levi considered the strange ways of Fate as he stared at the portrait of the daughters he had pretty much lost. The face of their mother, the woman he had once loved, who had given two beautiful golden girls into his care, was reflected back at him. He had not felt anything for her in years. Now, another fair-haired beauty was in his head. He wanted her. Her kisses had told him she wanted him too. But he wondered if wanting alone was enough for him anymore. And if he had the capacity to feel more than desire. To love again.
Chapter Six
Ella stared at the screen of her laptop. She’d been sitting at the compact desk in the alcove of the condo’s living room almost all day. Taking to heart Penny’s plea that she add a violent crime to the final installment in the Bloody Murder series, she had been writing and deleting for hours. Her heart was just not into describing grisly crime scenes anymore. And she was trying to write in an entirely different style. The short sentences and staccato dialogue between her heroine and hero, Barb and Joe, when discussing a pending case were in sharp contrast to the warm and loving conversations she had crafted for them when she wrote the synopsis for the book that would finally consummate their long-simmering love.
“What the hell am I thinking? I can’t do this. I can’t put a murder in the middle of this story. It takes it along a whole different path than the one I want for them, the one to happily ever after.” Ella pushed her chair back from the little desk, pacing to the patio doors and the waning sunlight. Hugging her healing left arm with her good right hand she stared out at the lush foliage and bright flowers surrounding the pool. The serene scenery did nothing to calm the jarring images careening through her writer’s brain.
Ella really cared about Detective Barbara McCartney, the tough, brilliant, damaged detective she had created over ten years ago. She had given Barb a fascinating career solving some of New York’s most heinous crimes, with the able assistance of Captain Joseph Liccardi, precinct commander and champion of uniformed street cops. The two had clashed in Ella’s first book but in subsequent stories they had formed a professional relationship based upon mutual respect, dedication to protecting the citizens of New York City and intuitive crime-solving skills. Their simmering chemistry had endeared them to millions of readers over nine books and almos
t eleven years.
It was time for them to come together; it was time for them to have a chance at love. Ella had forced Barb and Joe to solve murders involving serial killers, human trafficking, hate crimes, and foreign and domestic terrorists. She was tiring of the danger and uncertainty she made them endure long before her own brush with a violent crime over three months earlier. Rubbing her left shoulder, Ella winced at the stiffness. Bending, she did a set of the pendulum swings to loosen up her shoulder. Damn shoulder. Damn asshole purse-snatcher fuck head.
“Good thing they caught that asshole before I got out of the hospital and rehab. I would have found his ass and kicked it once I got back to New York.” She was muttering as she turned from the tropical view and ambled into the kitchen for more sparkling water. And chocolate. Ella could not write without a bowl of peanut M & M’s beside her. Fortunately, Penny kept her in good supply. She dug a bag of the candy-coated chocolate out of the drawer in the island and grabbed another bottle of water from the fridge. She still felt a twinge in her recently repaired shoulder as she opened the bottle.
“Oh yeah,” she snorted as she struggled a little to open the bottle of water. “I’m in great shape to do some ass-kicking.” She breathed a quiet thank you to the men and women in blue who had tracked down and apprehended her assailant while she was still in the hospital. Having been previously convicted of a violent felony, he was looking at twelve to twenty-five years. Given statements by two eyewitnesses and the tape from a street security camera that caught him exiting the park, the defendant had been quick to take the plea deal offered by the district attorney. By the time Ella was released from rehab, he was already locked away in an upstate maximum-security facility, serving seven years without parole. He would have gotten a longer sentence if they had gone to trial, but Ella was in no condition to testify at the time and now she had no desire to face her assailant. She had not seen his face; he had come from behind to snatch her purse by the shoulder strap. She had such a tight hold on it he had not gotten it with his first attempt. Ella swung out with the bag to strike him and that was the last thing she remembered. Apparently, she had gotten him across the side of his face before he hit her, knocking her out.
Shoulder to Lean On Page 4
