The Doctor's Christmas Proposal

by Laura Iding

  Mitch slid his hand beneath her hair and brushed his thumb along the side of her jaw, urging her mouth up toward his. He claimed her mouth, lighting her soul with the depth of his kiss. The fierce intensity of his tongue moving with hers sent a surge of longing rocketing through her. She melted against him, the thin fabric of her scrubs a negligible barrier to his hard length.

  In a quick movement he backed her up against the kitchen table. His hands palmed her bottom and eased her hips up onto the smooth surface, then nudged her legs apart to fit against her more fully. When she gasped and hung on, he trailed a string of kisses down along her jaw.

  “Dana, you’re driving me crazy,” he murmured between kisses. “I’ve wanted you from the moment I first saw you in the cafeteria.”

  She moistened her lips with her tongue, trying to think through the sensual haze. Mitch was always so kind and considerate. This new nearly out of control side of him sent her senses reeling. “I want you, too.”

  He lifted his head, staring down at her and breathing heavily. A haze of passion clouded his eyes. “If this is too fast, we can stop. I didn’t come here for this.”

  Fast? Laughter bubbled in the back of her throat. If he left her now, she’d have to hurt him. Never had anyone wanted her like this before. She was eager to relish the sensation. She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, pressing the juncture of her thighs against him. “Stay.”

  He groaned again and took her mouth in another deep kiss. His taste was intoxicating and addictive—the more he kissed her the more she wanted. She wasn’t sure how, but he managed to slip her scrub top up and over her head, tossing the garment on the floor.

  When he gazed at her breasts revealed in the skimpy lace bra, she felt beautiful. Sexy. Desirable for the first time in forever. Eager to see him, too, she eased away to help with his clothing. He wore a long-sleeved shirt with a long row of infuriating buttons. When she couldn’t get them open fast enough, he used one hand to hold her close while working the buttons with the other.

  Soon additional articles of clothing littered the kitchen floor. She wanted to suggest they find her bedroom, but couldn’t quite think of a delicate way to broach the subject.

  “Mitch?” She hated the uncertainty in her tone.

  “What is it?” He sensed her confusion and quickly tipped her head up to meet his gaze. “Have you changed your mind?”

  “No.” Dear God, no. She still wanted him, more than she would have thought possible. Her few previous sexual encounters had been simple, pleasant. Nothing nearly this wanton or thrilling. But as much as she liked the out-of-control feeling, the kitchen table wasn’t very comfortable. “The table is cold and hard on my behind,” she confessed.

  He blinked, then started to laugh, a deep belly laugh she couldn’t ever remember having heard from him before. She smiled, then began to laugh, too. They both laughed harder and harder until tears sprang to her eyes.

  Mitch’s pager went off.

  His laugh turned into a groan, and he reached for his discarded pants to find the device. When he read the message, his expression turned grave.

  “What is it?” She asked with a sinking feeling the news wouldn’t be good.

  “Trina’s bleeding.” His voice echoed with remorse. “Dana, I’m sorry.”

  She forced a smile, her laughter dissolving quickly into regret. This was what happened when you became emotionally involved with a physician. “No problem. I understand.” And she did. “I hope Trina isn’t losing her baby.”

  “I hope so, too.” Mitch bent and quickly rummaged through the clothes lying around the floor. He picked up her scrub top and helped her put it back on. “I can’t believe I’m helping cover up this amazing body of yours.”

  She smiled at the honest frustration in his tone. “Me neither.” He was being awfully nice, not leaving her sitting on the kitchen table, bare bottom and all. In fact, he made sure she had all her clothes back on before he found the rest of his.

  When they were fully clothed again, he reached for his coat. “I really wish I didn’t have to leave you like this, Dana.”

  The real concern in his eyes eased the awkwardness of the situation. “I know.”

  “We’ll get together again soon.” He bent to capture her mouth with his. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “Bye, Mitch.” She walked him to the door, then stood and watched as he strode back out to his car, knowing things had somehow changed between them. Not just because they’d almost taken their relationship to an intimate level.

  But because she’d just surrendered her heart.

  CHAPTER TEN

  MITCH OPENED HIS eyes, disoriented by the complete blackness surrounding him. Where was the sunlight? For a moment he thought he’d fallen back into that dark pit of despair after Jason’s death, then he remembered.

  He’d spent the night in one of the hospital on-call rooms after leaving Dana for the emergency in the ICU. There were no windows in the small resident call rooms.

  Fumbling for the light switch on the lamp on the bedside table, he remembered the events from the night before with sudden clarity. Those magical moments in Dana’s kitchen when he’d almost taken her like some horny teenager on the kitchen table. He should have been horrified by his actions, but instead his lower body stirred at the memory.

  Dana was the first woman he’d cared about in a long time. And he couldn’t make himself regret the time he’d spent with her. She’d needed someone after reading the letter from her estranged father and he had been glad to help.

  Glancing at his watch, he realized the time was close to eight. He needed to get back up to the ICU as soon as possible. He headed to the shower in the call room’s tiny adjoining bathroom. His patients were waiting, specifically Trina.

  The sixteen-year-old girl had lost her baby. The aspirin she’d ingested had been enough to prolong her clotting time and once the bleeding in her uterus had started, there had been no way to stop it.

  Scrubbing his face in the shower, he tried to remember things like this happened for a reason, but he empathized with Trina and her parents. He knew firsthand how helpless he’d felt after Jason’s death. He’d missed Dana when dealing with Trina and her family. Their overwhelming grief had reminded him what it had felt like to lose Jason. He’d been more than tempted to seek out Dana afterwards, only the knowledge she was sleeping preventing him from going over to wake her up.

  To finish what they’d started.

  After finishing his shower, Mitch yanked on a pair of scrubs in lieu of donning the same clothes he’d worn last night. He headed over to grab a bagel from the hospital cafeteria, washing it down with lukewarm coffee, before making his way up to the ICU.

  “Sorry I’m late.” He addressed his team of residents, who’d gathered behind the nurses’ station. “Let’s make rounds.”

  Quizzing the residents on various aspects of patient care took his mind off Dana. He led the team to Trina’s bedside and asked the resident, Dr. Samuel, about Trina’s latest aspirin level and hematocrit.

  “Ah, her aspirin level is 20.2 and her hematocrit is 29.7.”

  “Do you recommend giving additional blood transfusions?” He asked the resident.

  “Yes, one unit of packed red blood cells.”

  “No more blood yet.” Mitch corrected. “She’s young, healthy and there is always a risk with a blood transfusion. I think for now we should hold off and watch her.”

  The resident nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  “Is her aspirin level low enough for her to be transferred to the floor?” Mitch asked, putting the resident on the spot once again.

  A few of the residents exchanged glances, as if trying to figure out what he wanted to hear. Finally Dr. Samuels shook his head. “No, her aspirin level should be lower than 15 to be considered safe enough to transfer out.”

  “Very good.” Mitch glanced at Trina’s chart. “What has the OB/GYN team said about her miscarriage?”

  �
�They haven’t been around yet this morning, but last night their opinion was that her high ASA levels caused the miscarriage.”

  Mitch silently agreed, although he’d like to be able to tell Trina and her parents something different. The guilt of this would sit with her for the rest of her life, too much of a burden for someone so young. Making a mental note to contact Social Services for psych support after discharge, he moved on to the next patient.

  He finished rounds with Jessica. In her room, he was struck by her pale skin and wan smile.

  “How are you feeling, Jessica?” he asked with concern.

  “Weak,” she admitted. “Like I…can’t catch my…breath.”

  Mitch gazed at the information on her clipboard. Her oxygen saturation was hanging in the low 90s but he was troubled by her apparent listlessness. Her oxygenation would suffer with the smallest exertion. She wasn’t running a fever, thank goodness, and he made a mental note to double-check her chest X-ray from earlier that morning to make sure she didn’t have the beginnings of pneumonia. “I think we need to increase your Romadylin infusion.”

  “All right.”

  Her unenthusiastic response gave him pause. Was she getting depressed? Maybe antidepressants were in order. “Did your family come in to see you last evening?”

  “No…they’re coming…today.”

  “Good.” Maybe seeing her kids would help lift her spirits. He wrote the order for the increase in her Romadylin infusion, then went out to find the nurse. He inwardly groaned when he saw Therese was assigned to Jessica. She stood outside another patient’s room, jotting notes on a clipboard.

  “Therese, I’d like you to increase Jessica’s Romadylin drip.”

  She didn’t spare him a glance. “Fine.”

  Ouch. Apparently Therese hadn’t been as drunk as he’d thought if she could still hold a grudge. He waited a moment and when she didn’t move, he grew impatient. “Now, if you don’t mind,” he snapped.

  “I’m in the middle of something.” She continued writing on the clipboard, impervious to his urgency. “Leave the order. I’ll get to it soon.”

  Her couldn’t-care-less attitude set his teeth on edge. If he knew the intricacies of the CAD pump, he’d change the infusion rate himself, but the CAD pumps were very different from a regular IV pump and he didn’t want to risk making a mistake. He spun around, intent on finding the pharmacist on duty, when he caught sight of Caryn. Grateful to see a friendly face, he approached her.

  “Caryn? Will you do me a favor?” He handed over the order. “Increase Jessica Kincade’s Romadylin for me?”

  “Sure.” She took the order and headed straight for Jessica’s room. If Caryn noticed Therese wasn’t too busy to do the task herself, she didn’t comment. Since the increase was slight, it would take a couple of hours to see the effect on Jessica’s pulmonary status, which was why he’d been impatient to increase the dose right away.

  Mitch finished with the team right before lunch. He figured he’d grab something to eat, then give Dana a call.

  Since he couldn’t use his cellphone in the ICU, he went to the lobby after he’d finished eating to call her. Caryn had given him Dana’s phone number, although he’d had to endure the knowing glint in her eye when he’d asked for it.

  Her phone rang several times, then the answering-machine kicked in.

  “Dana, it’s a little after noon and I’m calling to see how you’re doing.” He paused, feeling stupid. Now what? “Give me a call on my cellphone when you have a minute.” He rattled off the number. “Thanks. Bye.”

  He snapped his phone shut and strode back toward the ICU. Was Dana avoiding him on purpose? He couldn’t imagine why but he also couldn’t claim secret insights into a woman’s psyche either. Leaving her when they’d been close to consummating their relationship hadn’t been easy.

  Inside the ICU he decided to check on Jessica. His steps slowed when he saw Dana standing in Jessica’s doorway, wearing soft, worn jeans and a bright red and green Christmas sweater. For a moment he was thrilled she’d come to see him, but then took another step into Jessica’s room and warned himself to get a grip. Dana was the sort of nurse who cared enough to check on her patients, even when she wasn’t working.

  “Dana!” A young voice called her name seconds before Wendy launched herself at Dana who laughingly caught the child against her.

  “Hi, Wendy.” She pressed a quick kiss on the top of Wendy’s red hair then lifted her gaze to Chad. “Hi, Chad. How are you? Win your hockey game?”

  “Yeah.” The boy shuffled his feet, obviously uncomfortable with his sister’s display of affection.

  Undeterred by his lack of enthusiasm, Dana put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently. “Glad to hear it.” The boy didn’t pull away from her touch and when she smiled at Chad he amazingly returned it with a shy one of his own. She hugged Wendy to her side and at that moment, seeing Dana with Jessica’s kids drove a glaring truth through Mitch’s heart.

  Dana was meant to be a mother. To have a family.

  The soles of his feet congealed to the floor as he absorbed the picture they made. One in which he was certain he couldn’t share. Because no matter how he wished otherwise, the fear of making the same mistakes he’d made in the past returned full force.

  His marriage hadn’t been able to withstand the tragedy of losing Jason. Dana wasn’t Gwen, but he accepted at least half the blame for their marriage falling apart. He’d buried himself in work, rather than trying to work through things with Gwen. And Gwen had chosen to start over, with someone new.

  He wasn’t sure he could do the same. Neither was he sure he could trust himself to react any differently if something like that happened again.

  He couldn’t trust himself not to hurt Dana.

  Dana hid the depth of her concern behind a facade of cheerfulness. Jessica looked worse than ever, more lethargic and listless than the night before. Only a few days left until Christmas and right now Dana doubted Jessica would make it to see the New Year, unless she was lucky enough to receive a double lung transplant.

  A desolate sadness washed over her. She couldn’t stand knowing Jessica might die over the holiday, the same way her mother had. Poor Wendy and Chad. There had to be something she could do to bring a little holiday cheer to their lives.

  Turning away, she glanced over her shoulder and saw Mitch staring at her from across the unit, his mouth tight and unsmiling. She was taken aback by his uncharacteristic expression, then realized he must be worried she’d attached more importance to their intimacy last night than the situation had warranted. Did he think she’d turn into some sort of clinging vine, tracking him down here while he was working?

  The idea made her feel slightly sick to her stomach. No surprise to figure out he wasn’t as emotionally involved in whatever had transpired between them as she was.

  Surprisingly, he didn’t avoid her though, but came forward to Jessica’s room. His facial features relaxed a bit as he approached. His gaze skittered away from hers, but he greeted them all easily enough.

  “Hi Wendy and Chad. Dana.” He stood with his hands thrust deep into his pockets. “I’m glad you’re here. Isn’t it great to have your family here to see you, Jessica?”

  Jessica nodded. Dana refrained from rolling her eyes. Quite a turn-around from a few weeks ago when he hadn’t wanted the kids exposed to the ICU environment, she thought.

  “Dr. Reynolds.” Dana purposefully used the formality. “I see you’ve increased her Romadylin.”

  He nodded, his expression turning serious. “Yes, first thing this morning. How do you feel, Jessica? Breathing any better?”

  The patient nodded, although in Dana’s opinion Jessica didn’t look any better. “Yes, a little.”

  “Good. I think we’ll probably get another chest X-ray in a little while just to make sure we’re not missing anything else.” Mitch nodded at the group. “Any other questions, let me know.”

  “Thanks Dr. Reynolds.” Jessica gave hi
m a fragile smile that nearly broke Dana’s heart.

  He glanced at her. “Ah, Dana? Do you have a minute?”

  “Sure.” She followed him out of Jessica’s room. But he didn’t go far. He dropped his voice so the information wouldn’t carry.

  “I wanted to let you know, Trina lost her baby.”

  She sucked in a quick breath. “Oh, no.”

  “She and her parents took the news pretty hard.” Mitch’s expression betrayed a similar sadness. “I thought you should know, in case you’d planned to visit with her, too.”

  Since she had been planning to do just that, she nodded, appreciating his foresight. “Yes, thanks. I’m glad you told me. Did she say why she took the overdose of pills?”

  “Sort of. She admitted to feeling depressed for months because of not having any close friends. Her parents had commented on her slipping grades. She got in with a bad crowd at school, then became pregnant. I guess she felt as if everything in her life was going wrong. Classic clinical depression, but very treatable with the right medication.”

  “I’m glad.”

  Mitch hesitated as if he wanted to say more, then took a step back. “There’s a patient on the floor I have to go evaluate for a possible transfer to the ICU, so I’ll see you later.”

  Dana watched him leave then headed back into Jessica’s room to chat with the kids. Last night she’d worried that the bleeding Trina had been experiencing hadn’t been good news. This result was probably better for Trina in the long run—sixteen was too young to shoulder the responsibility of raising a child. Still, she ached for Trina. At least her parents were supportive and with the help of her family Trina would get through this.

  “Have you ever seen the play, The Christmas Story?” Wendy was asking her mother. “Cindy told me it was really cool.”

  A shadow crossed Jessica’s features. “No, I haven’t seen it, honey. But maybe once I’m better we can go.”

  “That would be fun.” Wendy didn’t dwell on the play, but Dana knew the play wouldn’t continue to run after Christmas.