The Rebel Doc Who Stole Her Heart. Susan Carlisle
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could call her but after what had happened earlier he felt compelled to talk to her personally. Just for a second when she’d turned to leave he’d seen a crack in her mask, a deep sadness. He asked a nurse where to find her office. While he walked down the long hall in that direction, he told himself that he would be concerned about anyone who might have had their feelings hurt so publicly. It had nothing to do with Michelle in particular. He made a point not to get involved on a personal level. So why had her reaction gotten to him?
Stopping at the woodgrained door with her name on a plate beside it, he tapped. Seconds later a subdued, “Come in,” reached his ears.
Opening the door, he stepped in. The blast of color before him made him jolt to a stop. The walls of Michelle’s office were a warm yellow but what really got his attention was the huge bright red poppy painting hanging behind Michelle’s head. That, he hadn’t expected. The woman just got more interesting all the time. Her desk was the traditional hospital style but on it were modern office supplies, not typical business issue. There were two bright ultra-modern chairs covered in a fabric that coordinated with the painting and the color of the walls in front of her desk. This was obviously her haven.
Michelle’s eyes widened when she saw him. They were bloodshot, pink-rimmed. His gut squeezed. She’d been crying. She wouldn’t be happy he’d noticed either. He moved toward her desk.
“What can I help you with, Dr. Smith?” Her flat tone said she wanted to get rid of him as quickly as possible.
“Please make it Ty.”
With a sound of annoyance she said, “Is there a problem … Ty?”
Michelle said his name as if it was painful. She still resisted any relationship that being on a first-name basis implied.
“Mr. Marcus has spiked a fever.” He glanced down at the garbage can sitting beside her desk. Inside were Cellophane wrappers and white paper squares. She’d been eating chocolate cake rolls, no doubt feeding her emotions. So the woman was undeniably human.
When his gaze came back up it was seconds before hers met his. It quickly fluttered away again.
“I’m sorry you overheard them.” He didn’t take his eyes off her.
She didn’t question to what he referred. Instead, she sat straighter and said, “We need to start Mr. Marcus on prophylactic antibiotics and postpone his surgery until the day after tomorrow.”
“I agree.”
“Is there anything further?” Michelle shifted some papers on her desk that he suspected she really hadn’t been working on. She was trying to get him to leave without coming out and saying it. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to just forget that she’d been crying before he’d entered the office. Despite her less than warm demeanor toward him, he wanted to help her. He wanted to peel away the layers and find out what made the woman tick.
“I can see that you’ve already had dessert but I was wondering if you might like to grab a meal with me. I heard there is a place not far from here that serves a great roast-beef platter.”
She looked up at him as if he had snakes in his hair. “No, thank you. I have work to do.”
“Then maybe another time.”
“I don’t think so.”
He leaned his hip against her desk and looked down at where she sat. She glared at him pointedly.
“What sticks in your craw about me? Or is it you can’t stand anyone?” He raised a hand to stop her from interrupting. “It’s none of my business, and you can pretend differently, but I know your feelings were hurt a while ago. All you have to do is show them that you’re human. Smile, ask about their families. Win them over a little.”
Michelle stood with a jerk. Placing both hands on the edge of her desk, she leaned towards him. “You think I don’t know what the staff thinks about me? It isn’t my job to be friends with them. My patients’ care comes first and foremost. How dare you come in and try to tell me how to run my life? I don’t need some flit-in and flit-out doctor to tell me how I need to interact with the nurses.”
A slow grinned came to his lips. He’d expected her righteous indignation. “I’m just saying you can catch more flies with honey than you can with vinegar.”
She sputtered her disgust as he turned to leave.
At two in the morning Michelle pushed open the door of the physicians’ entrance to the hospital and stepped out into the night. Her team had been called in to handle an emergency. Thankfully she didn’t do too much surgery in the early hours of the morning. A hospital took on an other-world feeling late at night. Spooky yet peaceful.
She was so tired she hadn’t bothered to change out of her scrubs. Something that rarely happened. Her hair was still pulled back and secured by a rubber band, producing a small ponytail that brushed her neck. Holding her small purse in her hand, she was taking her first step towards her car when the door behind her opened. She jumped. Glancing back, she saw Ty. In one way it was a relief that it wasn’t someone with nefarious ideas; in another he wasn’t her favorite person.
This was the first time outside the OR she’d seen him since their conversation, turned blow-out on her part, hours earlier. She had cooled off but she still didn’t know why he thought he had the right to offer her advice. Especially the unsolicited kind.
She started walking.
“Nice work in there, Michelle,” he called.
She stopped and looked back at him. The lighting in the parking area wasn’t dim enough to disguise his drained stance. For once he wasn’t being upbeat and bubbly. He seemed as tired as she was. He’d changed out of his scrubs and now wore a light-colored T-shirt that fit his muscular shoulders far too tightly for her not to notice. A pair of baggy cargo shorts and sandals finished off his outfit.
On anyone else those clothes might have looked like those of a bum, but on Ty they added to his bad-boy sex appeal. His hair was no longer tied back, like he’d worn it under his surgery cap. Instead, it looked as if he’d pushed his hands through it and let it go. He looked untamed and wild.
“Whew, this early-morning stuff isn’t as easy as it used to be in med school. Who I’m I trying to kid? It wasn’t easy then.” He came to stand beside her.
Did he think that she was going to act as if nothing had happened between them? “No, it wasn’t.” She started walking again.
“Michelle, wait.”
She stopped and turned again. “Why? So you can tell me what I need to do?”
“Ooh, so the woman can carry a grudge.”
“I’m not carrying a grudge! I just don’t like people butting into my business.”
“Maybe you just don’t like people,” he said in an even tone.
She stepped toward him. “I do like people.”
“Then prove it.”
“Prove it?” What was he talking about?
“Yeah. Say one nice thing about me.”
She let out a dry chuckle.
He tilted his head and studied her. “You know, I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you approach anything near a laugh.”
“I laugh.”
“When? When no one is around?” he asked, moving passed her.
“Are you trying to start an argument?”
He paused this time. “No, I was trying to give you a compliment. Maybe flirt with you a little.”
“I don’t want you flirting with me.”
“Why not?”
She pinned him with a look. Even in the faint light she could