Lightning Strikes

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Lightning Strikes Page 9

by Mary Lynn Baxter


  “What—” Noah began, only to break off when he saw who it was. His gaze narrowed on her.

  That was when she noticed the color of his skin hadn’t changed. Unfortunately, that wasn’t all she noticed. Her gaze locked onto the tufts of chest hair that showed above the V in his greens, hair that she once had buried her moist lips into….

  She pressed her knees together to stop them from trembling. “Why is your phone off?” she asked, her voice sounding unnatural to her own ears.

  “Didn’t realize it was.”

  Liar. “Well, it is,” she said flatly.

  “Sorry.”

  “Has something bad happened to Randi?”

  He seemed taken aback by her question. “No, at least not that I know of, though I haven’t heard anything.”

  The lights suddenly flickered. They both flinched.

  “Dammit, that generator’s going to crash,” Noah said. “I just know it is.”

  “Let’s hope not.”

  Silence.

  “What made you ask about Randi?” Noah’s eyes followed her nervous fingers before she jammed them into the pocket of her coat.

  “Because you’re acting weird, that’s why.” When he didn’t say anything, she went on, “Was there something special about that baby who was just born?”

  “You’re imagining things,” he snapped, not looking at her.

  “Am I?”

  “Yep.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  His skin changed color, then. It darkened.

  Was it possible that not only had he gotten married, but he’d had a child, as well? Amanda rebelled at such a thought, yet her mind wouldn’t let go of it. Suddenly, she was tempted to confront him with her suspicions, to demand he spill his dirty secrets.

  “I—”

  “Whoa,” he said, cutting her off. “I’m not in the mood to be questioned. Besides, it’s none of your—”

  This time she cut in. “You’re right. It isn’t any of my business.”

  “God, Amanda, I didn’t mean—”

  “Yes, you did, and it’s okay.”

  “Dammit, don’t make this harder than it is.”

  “You’re whining again,” she said, confident her choice of words would make him angry and give her back the upper hand.

  She was wrong. Noah’s lips turned into a lazy slant as he peered at her from his position on the couch, choosing that moment to cross one knee over the other. “That’s because I’m not getting what I want.”

  She nibbled on one corner of her mouth, but refused to respond to that loaded statement. Besides, her mind was on something else—the lean muscles of his legs that seemed longer and more powerful than she remembered. It was when her gaze strayed to the impressive swell visible under those greens that panic kicked in.

  She groaned inwardly, especially when she felt his eyes appraise her in much the same manner. Things were not going according to plan. Would he always have the ability to heat up her blood?

  Thank heavens she was wearing her lab coat as she felt her nipples push against the fabric of her blouse underneath. Even at that, she sensed she hadn’t fooled him, that his seemingly X-ray vision could see what was happening.

  Color blistered her face. He swallowed convulsively. For a moment, the tension in the room heightened. Then Noah rose, shattering the moment.

  Amanda mustered as much control as possible. Her sexual reaction to him had to stop. She’d made a fool of herself over him once. She wasn’t about to do so again.

  “I need you to examine a patient,” she said coldly.

  He stared at her a long moment, then said in a thick voice, “Let’s get out of here.”

  She didn’t argue.

  Chapter Twelve

  Amanda watched through tired, frustrated eyes as Noah and Liz left with the gurney headed toward surgery. The biker just might be their second casualty of this long, harrowing night.

  When she had left ER and gone after Noah, the grisly looking man’s vital signs had been stable. A few minutes after she and Noah walked back to the trauma room, his condition took a sharp turn for the worse.

  Noah suspected his spleen was damaged. Thus the fast trip up to surgery. Would this night ever end? Amanda asked herself, pushing her disheveled hair out of her eyes. Not only were the emergencies continuing to come, both major and minor, they were taking their toll on the limited and embattled staffers.

  Tempers were close to flaring, hers included, and not just from overwork and the weather, though both were certainly contributing factors. Her mouth turned down. She hadn’t been able to conquer her reaction to Noah. He grated on her nerves like fingernails on a chalkboard. And there wasn’t one thing she could do about it. She was stuck with no way out. Damn, why couldn’t Malcom Riley have been the surgeon on call?

  He wasn’t, so that was that. If only she could get past the hot, rabid intimacy of her and Noah’s past affair. But every time she saw him, his presence rekindled old memories and created new ones. The fact that she kept noticing his body, especially his sex…

  Don’t! She was doing a number on herself that was unnecessary. She had someone else, Gordon, and apparently Noah did, too. That notion didn’t set well with her, either. The thought of him sharing his body and heart with another woman made her ill.

  She had known there would be some tough moments working together, and there had been. But considering the circumstances, she had made it through relatively unscathed. Ergo, she had to stop beating up on herself. Besides, she sensed this upheaval was a two-way street, that Noah wasn’t as immune to her as he’d like to be. For some perverse reason, that thought gave her satisfaction. But it was an empty satisfaction.

  Only the end of the storm would be her saving grace.

  “Amanda.”

  Suddenly realizing that she was standing in the hallway, using the wall as an anchor, Amanda straightened from a slouch into a full stance, then turned.

  Karen Sloane was standing a few feet from her, a puzzled look darkening her gray eyes. “Are you all right?”

  Amanda forced a smile, which she hoped removed some of the disturbance from her face. She must keep herself together and stay strong. After all, she was the one in charge. However, private practice was becoming more appealing by the second.

  “I’m hanging on, but no more so than the rest of you,” she said at last.

  “I hear that,” Karen responded, an answering smile removing the shadow from her eyes.

  “So who’s next?”

  “I hesitated even to bother you with this, but—” Karen broke off and moved closer.

  “Never worry about that.”

  “A man in cubbyhole two seems as addled as anyone I’ve ever seen.”

  “What happened to him?”

  The intern shook her head. “That’s the problem. He can’t tell us.”

  “Come on. I’ll take a look at him.”

  When Amanda walked into the room, the man sitting on the side of the gurney peered at her through dazed eyes. Other than a purple knot on his head and wet clothing, he appeared remarkably normal. But in his case, appearances were deceiving. He was anything but all right.

  That he was suffering from a mean lick on the head was Amanda’s first thought. Possibly amnesia, too.

  “I’m Dr. Jennings,” she said, approaching his side.

  “Hello,” he said in a cultured voice.

  The nurse had placed a blanket around him, so at least he wasn’t shivering, which prevented his teeth from chattering.

  As if Liz could read her mind, she said, “I tried to talk him out of those wet clothes, but he refused.”

  “All I’m worried about is my pounding head, Doctor,” he replied, following a cough.

  “What’s your name?”

  “I…don’t know.”

  Oh, boy. “Do you know how you got this nasty bump?”

  He didn’t answer for a moment—she could almost feel him straining to remember. She let him off the hook. �
�It’s okay for now. We can worry about that later.”

  “I want to know now.”

  Amanda’s response was to ask, “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

  “No. Just my head.” He stared back up at her, his expression still strained, but his tone hopeful. “I thought maybe someone here—you, maybe—might recognize me.”

  “No, I’m sorry, I don’t.”

  “Maybe I’m…not from around here.”

  “That’s a good possibility,” Amanda said mildly.

  He lifted a hand to the injured place, then grimaced. “Whatever or whoever gave me this did a good job.”

  “You got that right, which means we’ll need to get a CT scan of your head to be on the safe side.”

  “Doctor, what about my memory?”

  Amanda heard the frustration underlying his harshly spoken words and wished she could assure him that his memory would return. She couldn’t. She didn’t know under what circumstances he’d received the injury. Also, amnesia was a tricky thing. But she didn’t intend to alarm him further, at least not until she’d checked him out medically.

  “I do remember something,” he said suddenly into the silence.

  Amanda’s hopes surged. “What?”

  “Two people in a car.”

  “Can you remember where?”

  “On the highway, maybe.” His eyebrows came together in a troubled frown. “But hell, I’m not sure.”

  His impatience was evident in his tone and his mannerisms. She guessed this man was someone who was used to being in control and didn’t like giving it up.

  “They…asked if I wanted to get in the car with them.”

  “That’s good.”

  “No, it isn’t, because I can’t remember a damn thing more.”

  “Apparently, you were out in the weather and they were trying to help.”

  “Which means I could’ve had a wreck.”

  “Exactly.”

  “So where do we go from here?”

  “I told you, to X ray. And while you’re there, the hospital will do what they can to discovery your identity.”

  He blew his breath out. “Thanks, Doctor.”

  Amanda stepped back as an aide pushed a wheelchair to the gurney. Once they were gone, she picked up her phone and called the social worker on duty. She’d take over from here and contact the authorities.

  Afterward, she made her way toward the lounge, thinking how nice it would be to soak her tired body in a warm bathtub.

  Dream on, Amanda.

  *

  “It’s his spleen. It’s ruptured.”

  “You were right,” the surgical nurse said, staring at Noah across the table.

  “Let’s open him up,” Noah barked. “ASAP.”

  That was when the lights flickered.

  “Dammit!”

  The nurse looked up. “If the generator fails—”

  “Don’t even think about it,” Noah muttered in a dark tone. “When this crisis is over, I’m going before the board and raise hell.”

  “Get ‘em, Doc.”

  Noah smiled briefly, then concentrated on the job before him, which was removing the ruptured spleen.

  Several hours later, the biker was out of surgery and out of immediate danger. Like the Collier girl, his fate was now in the hands of a higher power.

  Although he had just reached his office, Noah thought about returning to ICU to check on Laura. At the moment, he simply wasn’t up to facing her frantic parents. Besides, he didn’t have anything to add to what he’d already told them.

  His top priority was to discard his bloody scrubs, shower, then head for the cot for what he hoped would be a long breather. A cold beer would be nice, too, though he wouldn’t want to drink it alone. He felt a pinch in his gut as his mind conjured up a picture of the time when he and Amanda sat on a rock after hiking up a mountain. Between sips out of the same can of beer, they had licked the foam off each other’s lips….

  Noah cursed then strode into the bathroom for a shower. A short time later, he was out and drying off. What he should do was try and reach his mother at the lodge to check on both her and his sister. He couldn’t believe the events that had unfolded this evening and night. Looking back on everything that had happened in such a short span of time—the storm, Randi’s disappearance, his face-to-face collision with Amanda—seemed too bizarre to comprehend.

  Unable and unwilling to dwell on Amanda and his lack of control around her, Noah put on fresh scrubs and had his hand on the door when it opened. Malcom Riley stood on the threshold, a grim expression on his nondescript features that matched his nondescript personality.

  Super.

  Right up there with seeing Amanda was running into Malcom Riley, Noah thought with a groan. If there was ever anyone Noah had known who was the least likely person to become a doctor, it was this man. He had the sensitivity of a cockroach. In fact, he reminded Noah of one with his dark, beady eyes and his pear-shaped torso.

  But it was his cocky attitude that rankled, that made Noah want physically to knock the chip off his shoulder.

  “Well, well, if it isn’t Dr. Howell.”

  “Not now, Riley. I’m not in the mood.”

  Riley’s laughed turned into a sneer. “Do you think I care about your moods?”

  Curbing his itch to smack him for sure, Noah merely said, “Get out of my way.”

  “Not so fast. We need to talk.”

  “Dammit, man, are you nuts? Talk is the last thing we need to do, especially tonight. We’re up to our eyeballs in emergencies.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re having trouble handling your job.”

  Noah got in his face. “Look, you little son of a bitch, I don’t intend to take your bull now or later.”

  “You can’t talk to me like that!”

  “The hell I can’t. I just did.”

  “If you think for one minute you’re going to get the chief of surgery position, think again.”

  “Right now, I don’t give a damn.”

  Riley blinked. “You mean you’re pulling your name out of the pot?”

  “Nope. I’m just saying there’s a time and place for everything. And now’s not the time to talk about this.”

  Malcom’s face turned uglier. “You think you’ve got it made around here.”

  “Look—”

  “No, you look. You think you can just walk out and leave this department in the lurch, then saunter back in like you never left. Well, I’ve got news for you.”

  “Oh, really,” Noah said in a bored tone, wishing again that he could deck this guy and put him out of his misery.

  “Yeah, things have changed. The board no longer thinks you walk on water.”

  “You’ve got two choices, Dr. Riley.” Noah’s tone was low and deadly. “Either pitch in and help or get your keister out of my way. I told you, I have work to do.”

  It didn’t take Noah long to realize he might as well have been talking to hear his head rattle. Nothing dented this man’s thick, one-track brain. He stepped around Riley into the hall.

  Malcom followed him. “I don’t know what you were up to while you were gone, but I’m working on finding out why—”

  He got no further. Noah lunged, grabbed him by the knot of his tie, lifted him off his feet and slammed him back against the wall. “I suggest you keep your nose out of my business!”

  “You bastard!” Riley said in a shrill tone, his eyes bugging out. “Get your hands off me!”

  “Noah, my God, what’s going on?”

  Whipping around, Noah stared into Amanda’s stark, white face.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Where had she come from?

  It didn’t matter. It was too late to worry about that, anyway. Things were out of hand. He was out of hand. Suddenly, Noah let go of Malcom Riley.

  “You’ll be sorry for this,” Malcom hissed, his face carrot red as he straightened himself along with his tie. More than that, it was obvious he was trying hard to overcome h
is embarrassment and recover his dignity. “Count on it. Your rear will be out of here. Count on that, too.”

  Noah managed to keep a hold on his tongue, only because Amanda continued to stare at him with that horrified look on her face. Damn!

  Malcom Riley didn’t tarry. His gaze, filled with contempt and loathing, stabbed at Noah, then he turned and marched down the hall, leaving a glaring silence behind him.

  Finally Amanda spoke. “That was some show.”

  “Sorry you had to see it.”

  “I see that hasn’t changed.”

  “What?”

  “You and Malcom. He could always pull your chain.”

  “You’re right about that, only this time, he went too far. If you hadn’t come along—”

  Amanda’s expression was disturbing. “Would you have really hit him?”

  “In a heartbeat.”

  “That’s not good.”

  “What is good about this night?” Noah lashed back. “You tell me.”

  “I know how you feel, but to behave like two kids slugging it out in a parking lot is not only unprofessional but ridiculous.”

  “Thank you,” Noah said, his voice heavy with sarcasm. “Your support is greatly appreciated.”

  Though color flooded Amanda’s cheeks, she didn’t back down. In fact, her chin jutted out. “I never realized what a bastard you could be.”

  “That goes for both of us.” This time his voice was low and harsh.

  “Look, I have to go—”

  “Aren’t you the least bit curious about what had Malcom so riled, or don’t you give a damn?”

  Amanda took a step closer, which made him privy not only to the lingering scent of her perfume, but to the rise and fall of her breasts. He swallowed, quelling the urge to grab her and kiss her until she cried for him to stop. Rarely did she get mad, but when she did, it never failed to turn him on. Just like now.

  With her added self-confidence, she was more beautiful than ever. The need to hold her, then bury himself in her soft flesh, was gaining momentum by the minute.

  Had he lost his mind? If she knew what he was thinking…

  “Okay, if it’ll make you feel better, I’m listening.”

 

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