She perched on the edge of the chair across from his desk. He leaned against the desk, legs outstretched and arms folded. “The short and sweet version is that the ‘history’ Leo’s talking about is a love triangle.”
Mitchell drew in his chin then shook his head. Brothers? “What?”
“Both Leo and Ethan had a thing for Olivia a long time ago. Ethan won, then just as quickly broke Olivia’s heart. Having spent time with Ethan when he was recuperating, I know he still carries a great deal of pain and guilt from his time in combat, and there were people he cared deeply about and lost during his tour of duty. I suspect having Olivia here at the clinic will force him to remember some things he may want to forget, and he may have to face the fact that he once really cared for her. It’s not my place to say anything more, but I hope that helps a little.”
“Yes. Thank you. I don’t want to delve into places I don’t belong, but you’ve given me more angles to consider.”
“Anytime, Mitchell.”
“Oh, and Lizzie, how are those honeymoon plans going?”
Her soft brown eyes nearly twinkled at the mention of her delayed honeymoon. “Fantastic. Never in my dreams did I ever think I’d have a wedding like that, and now the most incredible honeymoon. I won’t bore you with all the details, but it will be unforgettable, I’m sure of it.”
“That’s great. Just great. I’m looking forward to hearing all about it when you get back.”
She smiled. “Believe me, I’ll be telling everyone about it.” She paused and a tiny smile crossed her mouth. “Well, not everything.”
With that she left Mitchell to his thoughts. A love triangle? Holy smoke, never in a million years would he have come up with that. It was true that women found Ethan mysterious, and from the ladies’ scuttlebutt around the water cooler at the clinic, sexy as hell. Leo was also a fantastically handsome guy, not that Mitchell normally noticed such things but in Leo’s case it couldn’t be denied. Mitchell had always gotten the idea that Ethan was more of a love-’em-and-leave-’em guy. That Olivia must be some woman to have gotten under his skin.
With his interest piqued about what to expect from Olivia Fairchild, he went over what else Lizzie had told him. Olivia would bring back memories Ethan probably wanted to forget about from his time in combat. Mitchell could only guess what he’d been through.
And he thought he’d had it bad. He shook his head, thought about the woman he’d lost bit by bit through plastic surgery, his ex-wife. He’d stuck by her even through her transformation, only then learning she’d fallen in love with his business partner back in California, the only man Mitchell had allowed to do all her surgeries. The two people he’d trusted most had stabbed him in the back and run off together. The rush of memories turned the rich coffee he’d just shared with Leo bitter as ashes in his stomach.
CHAPTER FOUR
ALEXIA ROBBINS KNEW how to be persistent, and Grace was feeling the full force of her won’t-take-no-for-an-answer attitude.
Friday afternoon, Grace had just gotten back from the Lighthouse, having assisted on a pediatric cleft palate and extreme nose deformation case with Ethan. Besides being highly impressed with his surgical skills, she noticed how meticulous he was on every level. His team was kept on their toes at all times as he was a man willing to think outside the box when it came to solutions. He’d probably gotten that skill set from his years in combat in mobile surgical units.
The surgery had gone on far longer than she’d expected. She was tired and all she wanted to do was finish her paperwork and head for home to take a nice long bath. But there stood Lexi before her desk, determination flashing in her bright blue eyes and with notepad in hand.
“You’ve been dodging me, Miss Turner.” Lexi put her hands on her hips in mock anger.
“Moi? I’ve been in surgery all day.”
“I’m talking about yesterday, and the day before that.”
“Surgery and surgery. I’m sorry.” Truth was, she had been avoiding Lexi and her interview request almost as much as she’d avoided Mitch because of his irresistible charm.
“It’s just a few questions. I do it with all our new staff.”
Lexi wore the most fashionable clothes, and today was no exception. Her short dress fit to a tee, accenting her curves, and the flashy blue-and-bright-green pattern drew out the color of her eyes. What Grace would give to wear an alluring neckline like that….
“Our clients expect to know all about you.”
That would never happen! Grace’s mind raced for ways to answer her questions without really revealing anything. “Okay. Shoot.” As in you may as well shoot me because I hate interviews!
“Lovely.” Lexi sat in the white leather chair across from Grace’s modern glass and wrought-iron desk.
“I’ll answer your questions if you’ll answer a few of mine—deal?”
Lexi didn’t need long to think about the offer. “Deal. Now, firstly, what is your educational background?”
Grace ran down the list of her universities and medical schools, skipping the part about having to take a year off to recover, then all her awards and certificates.
“Ever married? Any children?”
“Never married. No children. Though I was engaged once,” Grace said, without thinking. She hadn’t thought about Ben in ages. Even now, after all these years, the thought of him twisted her stomach into a knot. “Once upon a time.”
Lexi lifted the thick-lashed lids of her dazzling blue eyes, made up to perfection, gauging the meaning of her response. “Care to elaborate?”
The fact that the guy couldn’t accept her after she’d been burned? Hell, no. There would be no elaborating.
“Not really.”
“I understand.”
Could anyone understand? Grace had been through a half dozen skin grafts, she’d finally been given the okay to get up close and personal with her fiancé again, but he’d taken one look at her naked—her breasts and neck covered in webbed and mottled scars—and, as hard as he’d tried, hadn’t been able to hide his horror.
“Pets?”
“Pardon? Oh, none. Look, I’m afraid I’m really boring, and people may worry about my stability if we continue.” Grace tried to make light of her situation.
“Oh, don’t think a second about it. It’s hard to pick up and move to London from Arizona. Besides, we’re just getting to the good part.”
Grace chewed her bottom lip, letting anxiety overtake her, wishing she’d never agreed to the interview. Moving on from heartrending, what could the “good part” possibly be?
Mitch popped around the corner of her office door, his mouth formed to ask a question. Grace and Lexi stopped and glanced his way.
“Oh, uh, never mind. Just had some news to catch you up on.”
“Yes?” She wanted more than anything to hear that news, anything to put off this horrible interview. Next Lexi would be asking to take a picture, the second-most dreadful thing Grace could think of after an interview.
“It can wait,” he said, and off he went.
Damn, there was no getting out of the rest of the interview now. How could she concentrate, wondering what his “news” was?
“Have a nice weekend.” Lexi quickly settled back into the rhythm of their interview. “Tell me about your most amazing reconstructive surgery experience.”
Ah, finally something she could shine about….
She smiled, relaxing into her thoughts, and laced her fingers together over one knee. “When I first began my reconstructive-surgery fellowship, I was fortunate enough to be chosen by my mentor to be on her special surgical-reconstruction team. She was one of seven plastic surgeons, along with several other surgeons, led by another woman doctor, taking part in one of the earliest face transplants in the world. Maybe you heard about it? The whole procedure took twenty-two hours …”
Lexi’s eyes widened with interest as she scribbled with all her might on her writing pad, her diamond engagement ring gleaming in the overhe
ad lights.
Grace paced the length of her apartment for a third time on a Friday night. She was too tired to go out to eat, especially by herself, and had settled for canned soup with toast. The soup was warming on the stove and the bread waiting for the toaster. Keyed up from a busy week, especially that day’s intricate surgery and Lexi’s interview, knowing that next week she’d meet her first high-profile patient, she’d soaked in the tub without relief. Feeling a bit in between things, she was restless yet not tired enough to go to bed. Besides, it was only seven o’clock, and she hadn’t eaten her supper yet.
She’d blown her opportunity to turn the tables and get the lowdown on Mitchell from Lexi. Something told her there was quite a story behind his divorce and unusual custody arrangement. Maybe he’d married someone famous? As adorable as Mia was, her mother had to be gorgeous. Of course, having such a good-looking dad as Mitch had a lot to do with it, too.
She sat on the couch and fiddled with the TV controller, not having a clue what programs or channels were available on British television, settling on an international news station which was focusing on Spain at the moment, but, whatever, the news would act like white noise and she’d have to make do for now.
Her intercom beeped.
She jumped, never having heard it before. What was that about?
She crossed the room and pressed the button. “Yes?”
“Uh, it’s Mitch. Have you got a few minutes?”
The sound of his voice sent a platoon of nerves marching through her. The one thing she’d felt relaxed about for the weekend was being guaranteed she wouldn’t have to be near Mitchell Cooper, wouldn’t have to fight her interest, or the reaction of her body, whenever he was near. Now, it seemed, he’d followed her home.
Since she hadn’t been successful at getting him out of her mind, she may as well let him in!
“Mitch? Oh, uh, of course I’ve got time.” The guy had come all the way to her apartment, she couldn’t exactly refuse him. “Let me ring you in.”
The moment she’d pressed the Open button she made a beeline for the bathroom to brush her hair and check her makeup. There was none there! Oh, my. She snatched her gloss and brightened her lips with a few dabs. Then she headed straight to the closet for a thin teal-green sweater to cover her arms. Shoot, she didn’t have a turtleneck on so grabbed the nearest scarf, trying to remember how to tie a simple slipknot. She doubled up the scarf and wrapped it around her neck, then slipped both ends into the loop, with fumbling fingers. The result looked haphazard, but it would have to do.
Just as she finished with the scarf, her doorbell rang. Remembering she’d put on comfortable sweat pants after her bath, she groaned. Cripes! She slipped across the carpet to answer the door, turning off the TV on the way and only then realizing she was barefoot.
Mitch smiled when she opened the door, the vision of his strikingly handsome face taking her aback, as it always did at first glance. He wore an old brown leather bomber jacket over his tailored yellow shirt, brown slacks and loafers. He’d removed his tie and the collar was open at his throat.
Her eyes drifted downward to where he held a tiny girl’s hand—the beautiful child from the picture. The sweetest-looking thing she’d ever seen.
“Hello!” she said, all thoughts of how she was dressed disappearing. “You must be Mia.”
Mia’s eyes lit up. “Hi!”
“Sorry,” Mitch said, looking at his daughter. “Should have introduced you first. My apologies, Mia, it wasn’t polite of Daddy to forget you.”
“That’s okay.” She sounded so grown up.
While his eyes were in the vicinity of his daughter, and the carpeted floor, Grace realized he’d noticed her bare feet. Besides her hands and face, this was the only “naked” part of her he’d ever seen, and it felt intimate. Really intimate. A slow, warm trail sprang from the soles of her feet to the backs of her knees and kept heading north. She wanted to turn under her bright pink-tipped toes and rush off to put on some shoes.
The moment stretched on a bit too long, and Grace wished Mia would save the day.
Still looking preoccupied with her feet, Mitch flapped a pile of papers at her. “I’m sorry to invade your Friday night, but I thought you’d like to see these case notes on our next patient as soon as possible.”
Our next patient?
“Come in,” Grace said, after the initial shock let up a bit. “Come in.”
“Nice digs,” Mitch said, after taking a quick inventory of the living room.
“What beautiful flowers!” Mia had rushed to the coffee table where the calla lilies remained. The same ones that had welcomed her almost two weeks ago—they looked worse for wear, a little droopy with browning edges. The ones Grace kept meaning to throw out. Yet Mia found them beautiful.
Grace smiled, loving the child’s enthusiasm, wishing she could tap into it herself.
“They’re called calla lilies, Mia, and I think they’re pretty, too.” She glanced up and saw a beaming Mitch, looking on with adoring fatherly eyes, and wanted to hug him.
Mia quietly repeated the name of the flowers, “Calla lilies, calla lilies,” as if memorizing the new words.
“Oh.” Remembering her makeshift dinner, Grace dashed for the kitchen. “Pardon me while I turn off the stove.”
The open-style apartment made the kitchen easily viewed from the living room.
“Didn’t mean to interrupt your dinner, too. Sorry.”
“It’s only soup and toast, but I can make grilled cheese sandwiches if you’re hungry.”
“We’ve just come from dinner, thanks.” He followed her into the glaringly white kitchen.
“I’d like a grilled cheese sandwich!” Mia spoke up, hot on her father’s heels.
Mitch looked surprised. “You just had chicken and salad, honeybee, how can you still be hungry?”
“I’m a growing girl?”
Grace laughed and Mitch reluctantly joined her. She loved the way he called Mia “honeybee”. So sweet.
Mia, realizing she’d become the center of their attention, grinned. “That’s what you always say, Daddy.”
Grace went right into action. “Two grilled cheese sandwiches coming up. Do you like tomato soup, Mia?”
“Yes.”
Grace smiled at Mitch, who shrugged.
“Then we’ll both have a bowl. Can I offer Daddy a sandwich and some soup, too?”
“Thank you, but no. Unlike my daughter, who left most of her dinner on the plate, I’m full.”
Grace went back on task. “You can sit right here, Mia, on this stool.” She moved and then assisted the child onto the kitchen stool placing it near the small breakfast bar and the stovetop. “Can you stir this soup for me once in a while so I can make the sandwiches?”
Mia’s eyes brightened and she reached for the long wooden spoon. “Yes.”
Her voice was sweet and serious and it touched Grace’s heart. What a precious child Mitch had.
A dreary dinner alone had taken on a new, welcome and completely enjoyable turn. She’d been kept so busy on the job that she hadn’t realized how people-starved she’d been since moving to London. Back home, her Friday nights were often spent eating out with her sister. She really missed having someone to share things with—wished she could talk to Hope about Mitch and her mixed-up feelings about him, too, but the seven-hour difference kept her from picking up the phone and calling home whenever she wanted.
Her smart yet lonely apartment had seemed to come to life since Mitch and Mia had walked in the door.
Mitch watched Grace move about the kitchen with ease. She knew how to fend for herself, and he liked that. He liked the fit of her workout pants and the extra treat of catching her barefoot. She had pretty, slender feet, and the pink toenails were downright sexy.
Mia lit up under Grace’s natural warmth and kind indulgences, as she carefully stirred the soup, Grace nearby, making sure she wouldn’t burn herself or spill anything. Maybe she had nieces and nephews,
and was used to being around kids.
“How’d you find out where I live?” Grace asked.
“I had to bribe our beloved receptionist, Helen.”
“Ah. Did she give you my phone number, too?”
She sent a subtle message: call before popping in next time. Truth was he’d been afraid she’d put him off if he called first, and he’d really wanted to see her tonight. All through dinner bits of memories about Grace played out in his mind. Mia had gotten impatient at one point, tapping his hand and saying, “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, don’t forget about me!”
“I, uh, forgot to ask, but that’s a good idea. We should exchange phone numbers since we’ll be working together so much.”
After his meeting with Leo, being told he’d be working with Grace on Telaye Dereje’s case, he’d had a perfect excuse to stop by.
“Makes sense,” Grace said. “Remind me before you leave and we can put each other’s numbers in our cell phones.”
He liked that idea, as he watched Grace grill the sandwiches and Mia stir the soup. Things grew quiet.
“What’s your favorite dinner, Mia?” Grace asked out of the blue.
“Ice cream.” Mia raised her shoulders and twisted her little body in delight, then mischievously glanced at her father. “Sometimes Daddy lets me have ice cream for dinner.”
Grace’s eyes, so blue, so beautiful, went wide. “Ice cream.” She gave him a you-are-so-busted glance.
“Now, Mia, that was only for your birthday,” he said, saving face. He really was a conscientious father and worked hard at the job, and he didn’t want Grace thinking he was some kind of flake, spoiling his daughter by giving in to her every whim.
Grace grinned at him, understanding in her eyes. “I think a birthday is a perfectly acceptable time to have ice cream for dinner.” She’d already started to grill the sandwiches and had flipped the first one. “I think I’ll have ice cream for my next birthday, too.”
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