A Stallion's Touch. Deborah Fletcher Mello
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met his bemused stare as she wrote her name and number into his palm. She then closed the cap on her pen, dropped it back into her bag and continued toward the family room, Nicholas following closely on her heels. Just as she reached the doorway, he called her name and grabbed her arm. Although there was nothing aggressive about the gesture, it clearly showed his determination.
Tarah bristled slightly. “Excuse you?” Her eyes darted from his fingers clasped around her forearm to his face and back to his fingers.
He snatched his hand away as if he’d burned it. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to say...well...” His eyes skated about erratically as he tried to find the words to voice the thoughts suddenly racing through his head.
Tarah shifted her weight from one hip to the other, resting one hand against the curve of her waist. She eyed him with a raised brow, her look questioning.
Nicholas suddenly pointed his index finger toward the door header above their heads. “We’re standing under the mistletoe,” he said softly, a hint of laughter in his tone.
Tarah’s gaze moved from his face upward to where he pointed. A ball of mistletoe, brightly trimmed with evergreens and a red velvet ribbon, dangled above them. She turned her gaze back to his, staring into his dark eyes. “Christmas is officially over.”
He shrugged his broad shoulders. “It still counts. At least until New Year’s.”
“Says who?”
“It’s an old family tradition. If you stand under the mistletoe, you can’t refuse to be kissed.”
“We don’t have that tradition in my family.”
“You’re in Stallion territory. In this house those are the rules.”
“Says who?”
“Says every man named Stallion in this family. Just ask them if you don’t believe me.”
Tarah crossed her arms over her chest, her stance widening as she faced him full-on. It was a standoff of gigantic proportions as they stared intensely at each other. Nicholas was actually taken aback when Tarah suddenly moved against him, pressing both her hands against his chest. The heat between them rose like a firestorm intent on vengeance. Nicholas licked his lips, the gesture ever so slight. She tilted her face upward, her eyes dancing a perfect two-step with his. There was an air of excitement that wafted between them, and just as he lowered his face to hers, his lips quivering with anticipation, she turned her head abruptly. His lips grazed the round of her cheek instead. She pushed him abruptly from her and tapped a heavy hand against his chest.
“I can just imagine the women you’re accustomed to dealing with, Mr. Stallion, but I’m not that kind of girl! So please, don’t get it twisted. You don’t know me well enough for you to be putting your lips on mine. And that’s a Boudreaux family rule! If you don’t believe me, you can just ask my daddy!”
Nicholas laughed, amusement washing over his expression.
There was suddenly a wealth of applause from across the room. The two turned abruptly, surprised by the unexpected attention. They met a host of gazes, both their families clapping enthusiastically after witnessing the exchange between them.
Tarah tossed Nicholas a look, her eyes narrowing as they both blushed profusely.
Gabi’s small voice suddenly bellowed across the room, her tone piercing. “Irene! Why is your boyfriend kissing that girl?”
“Paging Dr. Boudreaux to Radiology. Dr. Tarah Boudreaux to Radiology!”
Tarah paused in jotting notes onto a patient’s chart. She was at the tail end of a twelve-hour shift, exhausted, hungry and unable to fathom who was paging her or why.
A nurse she recognized but didn’t know by name nodded in her direction, the older woman smiling warmly. “Do you want me to call down and tell them you’re on your way, Doctor?”
Tarah shook her head, taking a quick peek at the pager that had also vibrated against her hip. “No, someone’s anxious for my company. No point in putting it off.”
The other woman nodded, extending her hand in greeting. “Dana Harding, CRNA. I’ve heard great things about you. I look forward to working with you, Dr. Boudreaux.”
“Thank you. I appreciate you saying so.”
Tarah’s pager vibrated a second time. She placed the patient chart back onto the counter. As a soft exhalation escaped her lips, a hint of annoyance furrowed her brow.
The other woman chuckled softly. “Good luck with that,” she said.
Tarah laughed with her, her name sounding over the intercom yet again. “Sounds like I’ll need it,” she said as she headed in the direction of the building’s elevators.
Minutes later she stepped into the radiology center, hurrying toward the area’s nursing station. Before she could ask who and where, the nurse behind the desk pointed her toward an office door.
With a light knock, Tarah pushed her way through the entrance and into the office space. Dr. Thaddeus Harper, Chief of Neurology at Phoenix Hope Surgical Center, stood staring out the window to the parking lot below. His hands were folded together behind his back, and he appeared to be in serious thought. He was tall and lean, his physique slim with the barest hint of muscle tone. He wore an air of wealth and accomplishment like a shroud, the abundance of it swathing every aspect of his personality. It was steeped in arrogance, and out of all the doctors in the hospital, he was probably the least liked. But he was a brilliant surgeon, considered to be the top man in his field, and that, in and of itself, garnered him much respect.
He turned as Tarah entered the room, and his face lifted with glee, the creases that edged his eyes hinting at a smile. “Dr. Boudreaux! You weren’t with a patient, were you?”
“I’d just finished checking Mr. Siler’s vitals. He’s out of ICU and doing extremely well.”
The man nodded. “Dr. Forest would have joined us but he’s been called into a meeting,” he said, referring to the head of radiology whose office they were in.
Tarah stood at attention as the man continued, her fingers clasped together, her shoulders pulled back.
“I’m sure you’ve heard of the Barton twins?”
Tarah nodded, and her eyes widened. She felt her heart begin to beat a little more rapidly. There weren’t many in the area’s medical field who didn’t know of the Barton twins. Oscar and Henry Barton had been born a year earlier at the Phoenix Women’s Hospital. They were joined at the chest wall and abdomen and shared a liver and intestinal tract. Physicians around the nation had been consulted about their pending separation, and it was rumored that a well-known celebrity had volunteered to cover the family’s medical costs. The proposed operation would involve specialists from pediatrics, plastic surgery, cardiovascular surgery, urology, liver transplant surgery, orthopedic surgery and neurology. It would take close to two days from start to finish. Every doctor and intern Tarah knew hoped to be a part of the team selected. Tarah nodded. “Yes, sir! I have.”
“Good.” He pushed a stack of medical files in her direction. “Make sure you know everything there is to know about our patients. You’ll be assisting me in the operating room. We begin practice runs tomorrow morning. The operation will take place next week. I will be reassigning all of your other patients until further notice.”
Tarah fought to contain her excitement, wanting to jump up and down with joy. Her eyes were wide, misting slightly. “Thank you, Dr. Harper!”
“You’ve earned it, Dr. Boudreaux. Your work ethic is admirable, and everyone here in the hospital has taken notice. I look forward to you being part of the team.” The barest hint of a smile pulled at the man’s thin lips.
Tarah’s grin was