Czytaj książkę: «Prince Charming, M.D.»

Chapter One

“Good thing he’s a gifted surgeon. He’ll be able to repair all the hearts he breaks.”

Dana Rowan took a sip of her coffee and resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She’d made a special effort to get to the meeting early enough so she could have her pick of seats. She’d deliberately chosen one in the back...as far from the podium as possible. She wanted to avoid gossip, her nurses—who had, collectively and overnight, seemed to have lost their minds—and most especially the “gifted surgeon” in question. So far she hadn’t seen any sign of Dr. Trevor MacAllister, so she’d accomplished a third of her goals. Guess that would have to be enough for now.

The two women sitting in front of her continued to talk about “young” Dr. MacAllister, differentiating him from “old” Dr. MacAllister, who was Trevor’s father and the chief of staff at Honeygrove Memorial Hospital.

“Have you seen him?” Sally asked, then continued without waiting for an answer. “He’s gorgeous. Serious studmuffin material.” She leaned back in her plastic chair and sighed loudly.

“I know,” Melba said. “Don’t forget I grew up here. I was a few years younger than him, but I remember Trevor back when he was in high school, and let me tell you, he was just as good-looking then.” She strained her neck as she peered toward the open door. “I’ll bet time has only improved him.”

Dana wished there were somewhere she could move to. She didn’t think she would be able to stand listening to this kind of talk through the entire staff meeting. Unfortunately, judging by the buzz flying around the room, she would have to leave the hospital or possibly even Honeygrove itself to escape the excitement generated by Trevor MacAllister’s return.

“He’s just a man,” she muttered. “He puts his pants on one leg at a time, just like other mortals. No doubt he has other human frailties, like an occasional bad temper and morning breath.”

But the nurses weren’t listening, and even if they had been, they wouldn’t have cared. She wasn’t saying what they wanted to hear. In the world of hospital gossip and lore, Trevor was a godlike creature. A hometown boy returned to the fold after making his name out in the world.

She took another sip of coffee and tried to disconnect from everyone around her. Regardless of what she personally thought of the man, he was now a surgeon at the hospital. Her job was to schedule surgical nurses and keep the OR operating—pardon the pun—efficiently. That meant working with “young” Dr. MacAllister. Fine, she would put her personal opinions aside and be as professional as the job required. She would survive the minimal contact and do her best to ignore the inevitable stories that would circulate. After all, they meant nothing to her. Like Melba, she’d grown up in Honeygrove and had first-hand experience with Trevor’s considerable charm. She’d fallen hard and she’d been burned big-time. If she allowed herself to examine her heart, she might even still see a few of the scars. But that was in the past. As far as she was concerned, Trevor was just another surgeon. As such, he held no interest for her.

Sally tucked a loose strand of dark hair behind her ear and leaned close to her friend. “He’s divorced,” she whispered, although not softly enough to keep her words from drifting back to Dana. “It’s been two years and he hasn’t gotten serious about anyone since. Think he’s trying to get over a broken heart?”

“Are you crazy?” Melba asked. She made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “A man that good-looking? You don’t actually think his wife left him, do you? I’m sure he’s been real busy these past two years. From what I’ve heard, he’s already been out with a couple of nurses here and he hasn’t officially started work yet. I’m not saying you couldn’t have fun with him, but don’t make it more than it is or you’ll end up with a broken heart.”

Amen, Dana thought, and hoped Sally would listen to her friend. The brunette was pretty enough to tempt Trevor, but he’d never been much on commitment.

Sally grinned at Melba. “You’re warning me off so you’ll have a clear shot at him yourself.”

Melba smiled in return, her teeth flashing white against her honey-colored skin. “I wouldn’t mind having a little fun with the good doctor, but I’m not going to make it more than that. He might have grown up, but I don’t think he’s changed all that much.”

She bent to pick up the plastic coffee cup she’d tucked under her chair. As she straightened, she caught sight of Dana sitting behind them. Her smile turned sheepish. “We don’t usually get this worked up over a new doctor.”

“I know,” Dana told her. “Under the circumstances, I understand the appeal. After all, this is Trevor MacAllister we’re talking about.”

Melba caught her note of sarcasm, but Sally missed it completely. She spun in her seat so she faced her boss.

“Exactly,” the twenty-five-year-old surgical nurse said. “So you’re going to help, right? I’d like lots of rotations that put me right at Dr. MacAllister’s side.” She swayed to inaudible music. “I can see it right now. We’ll look at each other across the patient’s body. Our eyes will meet— the music will start.”

“You’ll drop an instrument and blood will spurt everywhere,” Melba put in.

For the first time that morning, Dana chuckled. “Not an attractive thought, but probably accurate. I’ll be handling business as usual, Sally. Nothing has changed.”

The young woman pouted. “Of course it has. After all—”

There was a commotion by the door. Sally spun back to face front, then drew in an audible gasp. “It’s him! Oh, look, Melba, he’s stunning. I want him desperately.”

Then you’ll probably get him, at least for the night, Dana thought. While everyone in the room stopped talking and focused on the new arrival, Dana took a last sip of coffee, crushed her napkin and placed it in the empty plastic cup. She set both under her chair, after which she straightened in her seat. Only then did she glance toward the door.

He stood under fluorescent light that turned most people’s skin an unappealing shade of muddy yellow. He, of course, looked incredible. Tall, tanned, with the perfect masculine features of a movie heartthrob. She was too far away to distinguish the color of his eyes, but she knew them to be an impossible shade of hazel green.

Several doctors moved to greet him. The older man at his side, his father and the chief of staff, introduced him with obvious pride. Trevor was more than model perfect— he was also an incredibly gifted and compassionate surgeon. His colleagues respected him, his patients worshiped him, women desired him. A true paragon, she thought grimly.

Dana was faintly annoyed by all the fawning. Wasn’t there supposed to be a meeting in progress? So a new doctor was on staff. It happened all the time. Why did they all persist in acting as if they were being visited by a religious icon?

The meeting room was about thirty feet square and she was nearly as far from the door as possible. A couple dozen other people milled around talking now that the initial hush had receded. Dana had felt confident that she would be neither noticed nor acknowledged. So when Trevor looked in her direction, she didn’t bother to turn away.

“He’s looking at me!” Sally exclaimed.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Melba told her.

Dana barely heard them. Despite the physical distance between them, despite the number of years since she’d last seen him, despite the stern lectures she’d given herself to avoid making a fool of herself over this man ever again, once he caught her attention—she couldn’t turn away.

Those hazel green eyes trapped her. Trevor seemed to single her out in the crowd. All his attention, all his considerable energy, flowed toward her, around her. She felt it as tangibly as a touch...or a kiss. Heat flared in her thighs and her chest, working up and down, making her want to fan herself...or run for cover.

She was, she realized with dismay, not breathing, so she forced herself to inhale and exhale slowly and deeply. Noises in the room faded to faint buzzing, while the corners blurred into nothing. A wanting as powerful as a force-three hurricane built inside her.

Trevor’s father said something and the object of everyone’s attention shifted toward the chief of staff. For Dana, it was like breaking free of a tremendously powerful tractor beam. Her breathing once again became involuntary. The heat waned, as did the desire. The room returned to focus and she could hear what everyone whispered.

If she’d been standing, she would have collapsed into the nearest seat. As it was, all she could do was lean weakly against the chair back and wait for her strength to return.

What had just happened? She shook her head. Scratch that—she didn’t want to know the answer. She absolutely, positively, refused to be attracted to Trevor. No way, no how, not again. She’d sung that song and danced that dance. If nothing else, she had the ability to learn from her mistakes. He might have the gifted hands of Michelangelo, but he had the morals of an alley cat.

Dana shook off the residual effects of her momentary weakness and forced herself to look at the hospital’s chief of staff. Walter approached the podium and nodded to a few friends. The room quieted. From the corner of her eye she watched as Trevor made his way to an empty chair in the front row. He never once glanced her way, so she could only assume what she’d experienced before had simply been the result of low blood sugar or the placement of the moon or something. Obviously Trevor hadn’t been looking at her.

She wasn’t sure how long the meeting lasted. In some ways it felt as if she’d been sitting in her chair for days; in other ways, it seemed only a few seconds. But as soon as Walter excused everyone, Dana sprang to her feet and hurried toward the door. She told herself the real reason she was fleeing was that she had piles of work waiting on her desk, that it had nothing to do with avoiding Trevor. Besides, she need not worry. Already a crowd was collecting around him. A crowd of mostly women, she noted with some disdain. Even if he only greeted them individually, he would be stuck there for an hour.

She continued to walk forward purposefully. The corridor—and freedom—were in sight, when someone touched her arm.

She didn’t have to turn around to identify the person. She knew the same way bats know how to fly in the dark or cats know how to land on their feet. She knew because, despite the years and the past, or maybe because of them, a part of her still recognized him.

She stopped and, without turning to face him, said, “Hello, Trevor.”

“Dana!”

The pleasure in his voice made the heat return. It washed through her, a liquid warmth that dissolved will and purpose along with bones.

Because there was no way around it, she shifted until she was facing him, then glanced up. It was like tumbling out of a tree. For a moment she had a wonderful sensation of free-falling for eternity. Then she hit earth with a thump and had all the wind knocked out of her.

She couldn’t move; she couldn’t breathe. She could only look at him and wait for him to blow her away. He did. He smiled. A perfect mouth curved over perfect teeth, exposing a perfect dimple. The man should come with a warning label. Maybe something from the surgeon general or the military—lethal, operate at your own risk.

“I was hoping I would run into you,” he said, and placed his hand on her arm, just above the elbow.

The polite gesture allowed him to guide her out of the room and into the corridor. She thought about protesting, but she hadn’t gotten her breathing going again, so words were impossible. She could only stare mutely and try to figure out why on earth he sounded so pleased to see her.

People passed them. She had a sense of movement and bodies. By the time she had herself nearly under control, they were in the elevator, heading down. She forced herself to remember what had happened all those years ago. How he’d humiliated her in front of the entire school. The anger had long faded, but the sense of shame lingered. Now she focused on that, willing the emotions from the past to push aside the heat and desire she refused to acknowledge. No matter what, she would not want this man again. Ever.

“What are you doing?” she asked when she realized they were alone in the elevator and Trevor was staring at her with a smile tugging at his lips.

“Taking you for coffee.”

She made a show of glancing at her watch. “I’m very busy.”

He shrugged. “So am I, but this is important. Don’t worry, it won’t take long. I just want to get a few things straightened out.”

She didn’t like the sound of that, but before she could complain, the doors opened and two nurses stepped inside. They took one look at Trevor and simpered. There was no other word for their flirty expressions and open body language.

“Good morning, Dr. MacAllister,” they said in unison.

Dana thought about sticking her fingers down her throat and making a retching sound, but doubted anyone else would appreciate the humor in the gesture. The attention was nauseating. How did the man stand it?

Silly question, she thought, glancing at his handsome features. He accepted the adoration with the equanimity of one born to greatness. Women had been fawning over him since he was in the cradle and no doubt they would continue until he was on his deathbed.

“Doesn’t it get boring?” she asked as they exited the elevator, collected mugs of steaming coffee and made their way to a quiet table in the corner. She took the seat facing the rest of the room because she wanted to watch the reaction of the women already there. Most had already seen him and were staring hungrily.

Trevor settled next to her, oblivious to the attention. “Doesn’t what get boring?”

“The women. Or have you grown so used to being worshiped that it’s just matter-of-fact?”

Instead of responding glibly, he took a drink of his coffee, then set it on the small table between them. “I see my reputation has preceded me.”

There was a trace of regret in his tone. Dana dismissed it as wishful thinking on her part. He was too pretty to have values or anything close to a conscience.

“What did you expect?” she asked. “Honeygrove isn’t exactly a small town, but people do know one another. They remember what you were like growing up. Combine that with the hotbed of intrigue one normally finds in a hospital, throw in a fascinating and eligible surgeon—” she motioned to the room behind him “—it’s high drama.”

“You’re right.”

He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. The traditional doctor’s white coat flattered his tan and made already broad shoulders seem wide enough to support a building. She told herself that her attraction was a meaningless physical response to having been without a date for months. In the past couple of years she’d thrown herself into her career. She had a great promotion and raise to show for her efforts, but her social life bordered on monastic.

A moment of silence fell between them. Dana used the time to compose herself, trying to still the faint tremors in her arms and legs and slow her heartbeat. She was a grownup. She could easily handle this situation. Her gaze settled on his face, on well-defined eyebrows and a straight nose. She bit back a sigh—okay, so he was a fine-looking specimen. But that extraordinary body hid the heart and soul of a rogue. She would do well to remember that.

Dana leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs. “Well, Trevor, you called this meeting. What did you want to talk about?”

“You’ve been avoiding me for nearly a week. I want to know why.”

His statement made her stiffen slightly. “I’m not avoiding you. I’ve been busy.” She didn’t make a habit of lying and had a bad feeling she didn’t do it well. Hopefully Trevor wouldn’t catch on.

“I’ve left several voice-mail messages about setting up an appointment so you and I could talk. My office is ready to start scheduling patients, but we have things to work out first.”

Dana nodded. He was right. It was her job to keep the surgical unit working smoothly. There were dozens of details—personnel and their schedules, supplies, equipment, repairs, purchases. A new surgeon coming on staff required coordination between her team and his.

“I wasn’t avoiding you,” she said again, hoping repetition added conviction to her voice. “However, I’ll be happy to set up a meeting for later today or tomorrow. If that’s convenient?”

His hazel green eyes never looked away. The force of his attention was as tangible now as it had been earlier. She found herself wanting to promise him anything he requested. When she started to involuntarily lean toward him, she straightened quickly and forced a quick, tight smile.

“Thank you,” he said.

Even his voice was tempting, she thought with disgust. Low and sexy, the well-modulated tones were designed to make women whimper. It wasn’t Trevor, she told herself firmly. Maybe her flu shot had wom off early and she was coming down with something. That was it. A mild case of food poisoning or the plague. Anything but him.

“If that’s all...” she said, pushing to her feet.

“It’s not.” He put his hand on her forearm to hold her in place.

Dear God, he was touching her. Heat flared again, racing from the point of contact to the rest of her body. Fire collected in her breasts and between her legs. She would never survive this. Never. After all this time, nothing had changed.

She sank back weakly, wondering why her body had to betray her. Hadn’t the lesson been painful enough? Weren’t the emotional scars a reminder of all he’d done? She shook her head. Apparently her hormones didn’t care about broken hearts or shattered dreams.

Slowly, she pulled her arm free and placed her hands in her lap. “What else, Trevor? I can’t afford to extend this break much longer. I have a pile of work waiting for me on my desk.”

“This won’t take long.” He stared at her. “I suspect you’ll deny it, but I can tell you’re still angry with me. It’s been years, Dana. You need to let the past go. We’re going to have to work together, and it’s time to put our history in perspective.”

He spoke calmly, but it was all she could do not to shriek at him. How dared he bring that up? “Perspective? Easy for you to say. You’re not the one everyone talked about for weeks afterward. You went on with your life, while I was left to deal with a ruined reputation.”

Not to mention a broken heart, she added to herself. She was still shaking, but this time from reaction to his words rather than from attraction. Her face felt hot. No doubt she was blushing. She kept her head high, refusing to let him think he was going to get the best of her.

”I’m not that innocent young woman anymore,” she continued. “I don’t care what you do with your personal life, but while you’re dealing with me, you will remember we are business associates and nothing else.”

He’d handled the whole situation badly. Trevor cursed silently. He’d been a fool to think Dana would have let go of the past It might have been a long time ago, but obviously the memories were still fresh in her mind. The worst part was, her anger was justified. Unfortunately, he couldn’t do anything about it.

“If I could change the past, I would,” he told her.

“How nice for both of us. Tell me. What would you change? Would you still pretend you cared about me to get me to sleep with you, only this time you wouldn’t tell the entire school? Or would you just avoid the whole messy entanglement?”

Fire flashed from her blue eyes. She kept her chin high, her gaze steady. She’d always been tough...that was one of the many things he admired about her. Dana had a survivor’s strength. Life hadn’t always treated her well, but she’d come through. If he told her he admired her though, she would throw his compliment right back in his face.

“I would change two things,” he said. “This time I would make you listen to the truth. You wouldn’t hear it then, but I’m hoping you’ll hear it now.”

“As you said, it’s been a lot of years. Why should any of that matter?”

Because you’re still hurting, he thought. Instead he said, “Just listen. Please.”

She continued to glare at him, but she didn’t move from her seat. He took that lack of action as assent.

He sucked in a breath. After all this time, he was finally going to tell her what really happened that weekend. The hell of it was, she wouldn’t believe a word.

“I really cared about you, Dana,” he began. Cared. What a silly word that didn’t come close to describing his feelings. She’d been his whole world—only she’d never known. She’d seen what everyone else had seen. The handsome facade, the easy laughter. Not the young man he’d been or the tender heart he’d done his damnedest to hide.

“That weekend meant the world to me.”

She snorted in disbelief, but he ignored her and went on.

“I didn’t tell the whole school that we’d been lovers.”

“Then why did everyone know?” she asked. “It was all anyone talked about for a week. That Dana had done it with Trevor.” She pressed her hands to her cheeks. “I was humiliated.”

“I know.” He leaned toward her. “I’m sorry. I never wanted for you to be hurt.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Dana, I give you my word. I only told one person. Joel Haddock. He spread the rumors, not me.”

Her gaze narrowed. “That’s low, even for you. Joel was your best friend.”

Trevor nodded. “Definitely. Was. Our friendship ended that Monday when I found out what he’d done.” He studied her face. “You don’t believe me.” It wasn’t a question.

“Of course not. Joel was good to me. After everyone knew what we’d done, the boys wanted to talk to me only because they thought I was easy. They tormented me, cornering me in the halls, trying to touch me.” She shuddered at the memory. “Joel was there. He listened and he kept me safe.”

Trevor felt old anger surfacing. He knew what Dana had gone through and he’d been helpless to protect her. “Joel was there because he always had a thing for you. He started the rumor to break us up.” He laughed harshly. “It sure worked. You never spoke to me again. Until today.”

“You said you would change two things,” she told him. “The first was to get me to listen to the truth, such as it is. What’s the second?”

She didn’t believe him. He could see it in her eyes and read it in her body language. He told himself it didn’t matter. He and Dana had to work together, not be friends. But he’d hoped for more. Maybe some forgiveness, or at least a little understanding.

“I wouldn’t have told Joel,” he said. “That was my other mistake. If he hadn’t known what happened, or how I’d fallen for you, he wouldn’t have tried so hard to break us up.” He rose to his feet. “I know that semester was difficult for you. I’m sorry for my part in what happened. But I won’t apologize for that time we spent together. I’ve never forgotten it or you.” He flashed her a smile. “Not that I expect you to believe me.”

“Good, because I don’t.”

She stood, also. She wore a dark-peach coatdress. Chinlength, dark-blond hair had been brushed back from her face. She’d changed from high school. Her features were less rounded, her expression more wary. But her athletic body still moved with a grace that made him think about sultry afternoons and tangled sheets.

“I don’t know that we’ve cleared the air,” Dana said. “But at least everything is out in the open. I’m good at my job, Trevor. Just as you’re good at yours. We’re now forced to work together. I don’t have a problem with that if you don’t. As I said before, I don’t care what you do with your personal life—just don’t do it on my time. I can’t tell you not to see my nurses, but I will ask that you keep your flirtations to a minimum. If I see them affecting the running of this hospital, I won’t hesitate to report you.”

The insult was undeserved, but not unexpected. He told himself Dana was reacting to the truth as she saw it. But it was hard to just let it go.

“No problem,” he said, then headed for the door before he exploded. Several women called out greetings. He nodded pleasantly as he walked to the elevator. Once he was inside and the doors closed, leaving him alone, he gave in to his rage.

He swore long and loud, then hit the wall with a closed fist. Dana thought he was little more than a gigolo, which was what most people believed. That Trevor MacAllister had a woman in every port—or in the case of the hospital, a nurse on every floor and in every department. That he went out with a different one each night, bedded them all in legendary fashion and forgot about them the next day. Out of sight, out of mind.