The Surgeon's Rescue Mission

by Dianne Drake

  Solaina felt chilled, just thinking about it. It didn’t matter what anybody said to make her feel better. A man had died because she hadn’t been experienced enough to recognize his symptoms, and that had been the last night she’d ever treated a patient. Until David. And now Pholla. “Well, let’s see what we can do to get you fixed up,” she said to the girl, as she pulled on a pair of gloves.

  “Need help?” David asked.

  She glanced over at him and shook her head, gritting her teeth for the task ahead. “You look like the one who needs help,” she replied as she helped Pholla get comfortable. David was pale, she noticed. And leaning a little too heavily against the bed. “You should be in bed yourself.” Pulling back the blanket Pholla was wrapped in, Solaina saw much more than she was prepared for. Much more than the man who’d brought her in had disclosed. A few cuts, yes, but this child looked like she’d been tangled in barbed wire and had fought her way out. There were dozens of nicks on her legs—some deep, some not so deep. Some would need stitches, some just a good clean and one…Solaina took a good look at the cut on the back of Pholla’s ankle. It was small, and not bleeding very badly. But its placement…right on the tendon. She took a better look, probed with her fingers and drew in a sharp breath. This was urgent! The child was about to lose her foot!

  “Matteo,” Solaina screamed, grabbing a roll of gauze bandage from a stand near the bed. Immediately she started wrapping the wound so the girl couldn’t wiggle her foot and cause more damage. As Matteo came running, David hobbled around to that side of the bed to take a look.

  “It can be saved,” Solaina gasped, backing away as both men moved forward. “It’s deep, but it’s attached. The pedal pulse is weak, the foot is cold, sluggish reflexes and movement. But it can be saved, David. If she has surgery. Now!”

  Then she turned and ran from the emergency room, fighting against the nausea threatening to overtake her. Slamming shut the door to the guest quarters, Solaina didn’t even make it to the bed. Near the middle of the room she crumpled to her knees, then sat there, not crying, not thinking. Just numb. For how long? Long enough to let the incident with Jacob cycle through a dozen times, each precise moment of it playing out in her mind in vivid detail. First he was alive, then he was dead. Alive, dead. Alive…Dead…

  She couldn’t block it out. But she didn’t want to. The reminder of what she’d done, always pounding away at her like it did, was the justified punishment that had kept her in her rightful place all these years. In the weak moments when she thought about returning to clinical practice, her perpetual punishment sealed that delusion away and beat the sure knowledge of where she did not belong right back into her.

  “We all have traumas and bad experiences,” David said a little while later, as he stepped into the room. His voice was so gentle it made her ache from wanting more of it. And ache even more, knowing she couldn’t have it. What had just happened with Pholla had emphasized that—the way she’d panicked and run away. In a moment of weakness she’d thought she was up to it. David believed she was and she wanted desperately to trust that he was right. For him. But most of all, for her.

  He was wrong, though.

  “It’s part of the medical existence,” he continued. “You were outstanding in there, recognizing the severity of the laceration, making all the right assessments and getting it wrapped. She’s going to be fine because of that.”

  Solaina didn’t respond. There was nothing to say, because her trauma went far, far beyond a bad experience. She had killed someone after all.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, struggling down to the floor next to her.

  “There’s nothing to say. I’m not a nurse. In training, yes. In practice, no. And expecting anything more of me is dangerous. You shouldn’t have put me in that position, David. I took care of you out on the road because there was nobody else. But with Pholla there was. You have a hospital full of qualified staff and you shouldn’t have…” She shook her head, swallowing back the lump in her throat.

  “Panic attack?” he asked, taking hold of her hand.

  Solaina nodded, but said nothing. There was nothing to say.

  David scooted close to her, then put his arm around her shoulders. “Once, when I was a medical student, we had a young girl come in. She was probably five or six. Beaten by her stepfather. Beaten badly. She was assigned to me, so I did all the right tests—X-rays, lab work. I set her broken arm, bandaged her scrapes and turned her over to the authorities, who promised to take care of her. They said they would do the proper investigations, and I trusted that they would. Next week, same little girl, same stepfather. Irreparable brain damage. I quit being a doctor that day. Couldn’t handle it, didn’t want to handle it. Got a job in a car wash because I thought that would be a good place to figure out what came next in my life.” He chuckled. “That lasted half a day. Want to know why?”

  “Because you were a doctor,” Solaina said stiffly.

  “Because I was a doctor. Like you’re a nurse. We all have those experiences that make or break us, Solaina. I don’t know what happened to you, and I’m guessing you think yours broke you. But it didn’t. You’re still a nurse.”

  “An administrator of nurses,” she corrected.

  “A nurse,” he insisted. “Or you wouldn’t have stayed in the field. It’s more than what you do. It’s who you are.”

  “Who I am is someone who didn’t recognize the symptoms of an aneurysm. I gave him ibuprofen for his headache and told him the doctor would be in to see him in a little while. A headache, David! His aneurysm burst while he was waiting, and he died, and that stupid ibuprofen didn’t do him a bit of good because his nurse—the person he trusted to take care of him—couldn’t take care of him. I didn’t know enough. And you know what? I still have nightmares. And, yes, I do have panic attacks. My hands shake, I get sick to my stomach, my heart pounds, I go light-headed. All the time. They don’t go away, and his face doesn’t fade. And just now, when Pholla came in, I saw Jacob Renner. When I found you and had to take care of you, I saw Jacob Renner.”

  “But yet you don’t give up, do you?”

  “Nursing in the sense that I wanted to be a nurse…I never even had a start at it. When you come out of school with my credentials—a master’s of science, a master’s of business, a doctorate of nursing, they won’t give you a bedpan. It’s a desk, and a budget, and an administrative agenda.”

  “All those diplomas?”

  “I was a professional student. Didn’t want to face the real world, and I didn’t for a long time. And the result was what is traditionally called an educated fool. By the time I got to nursing school and realized that was really what I wanted to do, I didn’t stand a chance really. Except I didn’t know that. And on the day I received my doctorate I was inundated with offers. So apart from my clinical practice as a student, I’ve had none. And I had no right going near a patient then. Or just now.”

  Solaina paused to draw in a deep, ragged breath, then she let it out slowly. “I’m sorry I made a scene in there, but you shouldn’t have put me on the spot, David. I know my capabilities better than anyone else.”

  “And underestimate them,” David said gently.

  “My father has influenced every job I’ve ever had,” she told him. “That’s what he told me when I phoned him earlier. It seems like my career has never been mine, and I didn’t even have the sense to know that. That car wash you were talking about—maybe I’ll go get a job there for a while. See what I can figure out for myself this time, without anyone making the choices for me. Oh, and my father said he doesn’t know anything about what’s been going on at Vista.”

  Solaina scooted a little closer into David’s embrace. It felt so good nice being there with him like that, better than it should have. And maybe this was all about her momentary collapse over her whole career situation and not at all about him. Somebody to cling to in a crisis.

  But, then, maybe this was all about David.

  “
Do you want a job here, Solaina? Bad hours, lousy pay. The boss is pretty nice, though, I’ve heard.” He tilted her face toward his. “Great benefits, when there’s time.”

  Solaina’s lips parted beneath David’s as if that was natural thing between them, as if they’d been intimate lovers for ever and this moment was but one in some grander fate between them. One brief kiss had been what she’d promised herself at the start of it, but even before it began she was so hot for him she’d lost all control to pull back, or think, or even breathe normally. And when he ran his hand up her back, pulling her closer to him, she thrust her tongue into his mouth and kissed him hard, with all the pent-up emotions that now wanted to escape.

  David’s tongue met hers in the same sensation of heat and fury, and probed deeply, setting her entire body on fire. She wanted him here, and now, like she’d never wanted another man, and when he slid his hand under her shirt and cupped her breast, every little spark of resistence in her that might have surfaced was snuffed out. “David,” she murmured, as his kisses trailed down her throat. “Yes…”

  “Solaina,” he moaned, fumbling, one-handed, to remove her shirt. It was a simple cotton pull-over, and such an obstacle for a man who had but one good arm to use.

  “Your shoulder,” she warned, eagerly helping him inch her shirt up over her head. “Are you sure you can—?”

  “My shoulder’s fine,” he growled, reaching around to unfasten her bra even before her shirt was completely removed. With that he needed no help, and before she could draw in her next breath, her bra went sailing through the air and landed near the door.

  “What about your patient?” she asked, as he skimmed his hand along her breast.

  “In surgery,” he said as he bent to take her nipple into his mouth.

  “And Pholla?”

  He teased her nipple with his tongue until it was standing erect, then he pulled away to admire his handiwork. “She’s with Matteo. And it’s just like I told you before. You are a nurse, Solaina. In every sense of the word. Even now, at the beginning of what should be one of the best nights of your life, you’re thinking about your patients.”

  “One of the best nights of my life?” Gingerly, she began to pull his scrub top over his head. “You’re setting your standards pretty high, aren’t you?” she teased. He gasped as she struggled to get his shirt over his shoulder, so she slowed down a bit, even when all she wanted to do was rip it off him.

  “I’ll let you be the judge of that,” he said, once the shirt was finally off and had been tossed on top of her bra.

  “What about your ribs?” she asked.

  “And what does my nurse prescribe?”

  Instead of answering, Solaina pushed David gently back onto the floor, then took her place atop him, taking care not to press down against his chest. Then she looked down at him and smiled. “Does the doctor concur?” she asked, running her fingers lightly over the strain of his erection already pressing against his scrub pants.

  “Concurs,” he moaned, thrusting his pelvis up to meet her fingers, as he reached up to run his thumb over her erect nipples.

  His hand lingered there only a moment, then he raised himself up slightly, wrapped his hand around her neck and pulled her down to him, seeking her breast with his mouth…sucking and nibbling until she thought she was going to explode for wanting more of him…all of him. “Think we should turn off the lights?” he asked.

  She had seen him naked already, as a patient. But now she wanted him naked, as a lover, wanted to look at him and admire him as a lover. “In the light,” she said. Something about David drove her to be bold, and if this was the only time they were to be together, she wanted to remember every detail—of him, and of the best night of her life. And not in the dark.

  David chuckled. “On the floor, in the light. You’re not a conventional woman, Solaina Léandre.”

  “I don’t have to be,” she whispered, backing off him in order to remove his pants. “Not any more.”

  The scrubs tugged down easily, and so did his briefs, and for a moment Solaina simply admired him, all of him, as he watched her. “I’ve never been with a blond before,” she said, almost shyly, as she stood to remove her own pants—baggy khaki cargos that slid down easily. Underneath, her panties were the sensible white cotton ones she wore for work, not one of the lacy pretties she kept tucked back in her drawer, barely worn. When she’d put on the whites this morning, she hadn’t guessed she would be taking them off for David later on, and now she wished she were in the skimpy little blacks, or the satiny reds.

  She knelt to straddle him again, then placed a light kiss on the flesh just below the bandages over his ribs. “So tell me. Do blonds have special needs?”

  “The only special need this blond has is you, pretty lady. Did I ever tell you that you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen?” he asked.

  “In your delirium.”

  “I’m not delirious now, and you’re still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He reached out to stoke her face. “I couldn’t forget you, Solaina. I didn’t know you, but all I could do was think about you. And the night your rescued me, it took me hours to realize it wasn’t delirium.”

  “This scares me, David. I’m attracted to you…” She brushed her hand lightly over his abdomen, then smiled. “And I think you’re feeling the same way…”

  “Want me to show you just how much?” He grinned at her. “Because even with a chest full of broken ribs and a shoulder that’s not working,” he growled, grabbing her around the waist and pulling her down to him, “I still have a few tricks left.” He ran his thumb over her lips, and followed it with a light kiss. “And parts of me are still in very good working order, if you’d care to find out.”

  Solaina pressed herself to him and heard his slight gasp, but she didn’t pull back because his hand skimmed between them, seeking out that sensitive spot between her legs in a way that, once he found it, caused her to gasp. “Nice trick,” she managed, as his fingers worked their magic, exploring the exquisite circle, until her breaths started coming in short, fast bursts as her body tried to explode in release.

  But before it did entirely, David pulled away. “Condom,” he groaned.

  “I don’t have one,” Solaina moaned. It had been years since anything like this had come close to happening, and she wasn’t on birth control. “Damn it,” she muttered, partly from the physical letdown already sliding over her and partly from the emotional disappointment.

  “In my shirt pocket.”

  “You were expecting this?” she asked, as she scrambled off him.

  “I was praying for it.”

  His words made her throb. His touch, his smell, everything about David made her throb, and she was on the brink of needing him so badly that she would have forfeited the protection. She was glad he’d been prepared, and sad about it in a way, too. If this was to be their only night, which was probably the case as who knew where she’d be tomorrow, having all of him in the most intimate of ways would have been nice…wonderful.

  This way, it was merely an encounter, but perhaps that was for the best. For the both of them.

  “So, tell me how you like it, David.” She straddled him again, then she slid her hand over his stomach—something she’d wanted to do the first time she’d seen him. “You’ve got a beautiful chest,” she said, leaning carefully to press her breasts to him. “I noticed it the night I took off all your clothes.”

  “My chest? That’s all you noticed?”

  “I was being professional about it.” She placed a light kiss on his belly, then moved down his right leg until she found his toes. “Your bruises look better,” she said.

  “Quit assessing the damage,” he rasped, “and don’t stop what you were doing.”

  She laughed. “But I thought you said I was a nurse.”

  “You’re killing me, Solaina.”

  “I’m making this the best night you’ll ever have, too.” She retraced the trail up his other l
eg, then stopped at his belly and rose up enough to lower herself down onto him. “The very best night,” she murmured, as she started to move up and down. If not for him, for her. Because this was no encounter, and David was not merely a casual fling on a hospital floor outside the little town of Kantha. She wasn’t ready to admit love, or anything as profound as that. But if her life was any different, she might have. Love, or something like it. And she knew that after tonight nothing in her world would ever be the same.

  “Ready?” she asked, fighting to restrain herself she wanted this so badly.

  “Solaina,” he moaned, and she knew it wasn’t from pain. That was all it took. All notions of what ifs, and what might have beens were put aside for the urgency of that moment as she pressed herself exuberantly down on him, thrusting to feel as much of him in her as she could.

  The feeling of him was almost more than she could endure as Solaina thrust herself even harder on David until she finally surrendered in a hard climax at the same moment he did.

  There were no endearing moments afterwards, though. Not on a cold, hard floor under bright lights. The second Solaina rolled off David, he let out a moan that had nothing to do with ecstasy.

  “I think I tore cartilage in my ribs,” he gasped, grabbing himself across the chest and rolling over on his side.

  Solaina sighed as she scrambled for their clothing. In one way they had both been correct—it was a night neither one of them would ever forget.

  “It’s probably just what you said,” Matteo pronounced, looking at the fresh X-ray of David’s ribs. “Torn cartilage.” In the case of the human rib cage, cartilage connected rib to rib, and torn cartilage was simply when it tore away from the rib. It was painful, took a while to heal, and was usually not serious. “I’d diagnose bed rest, Davey, but I have a sneaking hunch that’s how you got this injury.”

  “Shut up,” David snapped, struggling to sit upright on the examining table. He wasn’t angry about the torn cartilage. What he’d had with Solaina had been worth it. What he was angry about was finishing it with an injury—he’d wanted to talk for a while. Not pillow talk, as there had been no pillow involved in what they’d done. But he wanted to make sure that she was not feeling awful about her nursing skills again. He wanted to reassure her, and promise her, and say all the words it would take to make her understand that he’d seen her skill and it was good, and that she was being too harsh on herself.