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It Happened in Vegas
Amy Ruttan
The hero she never forgot…Keeping out of the spotlight isn’t easy for senator’s daughter, Dr Jennifer Mills…especially after being jilted at the altar by her ex-fiancé! Arriving in Las Vegas, she’s just hoping to blend in…but then she meets ER surgeon Nick Rousseau – the same man she spent an unforgettable night with, three years earlier!Now returned from Afghanistan, ex-army medic Nick is struggling to come to terms with his time on the frontline. Rekindling his romance with Jennifer reminds this brooding doctor that some things in life are still worth fighting for…Army DocsTwo brothers, divided by conflict, meet the women who will change their lives… for ever!
Dear Reader (#uf6d66d69-607f-5c3d-8490-ba9014948253),
Thank you for picking up a copy of It Happened in Vegas.
I love writing about brothers—probably because I’m surrounded by them. My mother had three brothers, my dad was the youngest of eight, and there was only one sister right in the middle. I have a younger brother, and my own daughter has two younger brothers.
Brothers—I know them well. I know that the love they share, though not always evident to strangers, is there.
My hero Nick feels he’s wronged his brother Marc, and for that he punishes himself—until both brothers learn to reach out and heal each other. Of course this is done with the help of a good woman by their sides.
Why did I set this story in Vegas? Simply because I love the desert and badlands—there’s just something about the wide open spaces, the arid foothills and the landscape which seems so harsh. Nevada is a state that is on top of my bucket list. I hope I get to visit one day.
I hope you enjoy It Happened in Vegas.
I love hearing from readers, so please drop by my website, amyruttan.com (http://www.amyruttan.com), or give me a shout on Twitter@ruttanamy (http://twitter.com/ruttanamy).
With warmest wishes
Amy Ruttan
Born and raised on the outskirts of Toronto, Ontario, AMY RUTTAN fled the big city to settle down with the country boy of her dreams. When she’s not furiously typing away at her computer she’s mom to three wonderful children, who have given her another job as a taxi driver.
A voracious reader, she was given her first romance novel by her grandmother, who shared her penchant for a hot romance. From that moment Amy was hooked by the magical worlds, handsome heroes and sigh-worthy romances contained in the pages, and she knew what she wanted to be when she grew up.
Life got in the way, but after the birth of her second child she decided to pursue her dream of becoming a romance author.
Amy loves to hear from readers. It makes her day, in fact. You can find out more about Amy at her website: amyruttan.com (http://www.amyruttan.com)
It Happened in Vegas
Amy Ruttan
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
This book is dedicated to all the brothers in my life
and my plethora of uncles, in particular two who are no
longer with us: Uncle Jim and Uncle Wavell.
And most especially to my brother Mike.
Sorry for duct taping you to the wall periodically
when we were younger.
Table of Contents
Cover (#ud3f151ec-34ff-5a6c-990b-da0cc6789215)
Dear Reader
About the Author (#u212aa790-fb00-5b76-bb6d-052bda5e6a1e)
Title Page (#ub76dbe8b-e34e-5373-b548-8ed3da7f8179)
Dedication (#u8c0de598-a350-5ab6-be8d-8dc1a3fb8450)
PROLOGUE (#ulink_273fa12e-4268-5eb7-b8ca-2c3a9eeb8d55)
CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_bb2e6723-5a09-5dae-b616-afa00fdaa477)
CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_94111250-4f69-5577-bde9-0068fab0f3de)
CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_2b4fdd26-a163-53e6-8498-69e9174f3aaa)
CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
PROLOGUE (#ulink_74053b48-6c83-53fe-8719-dbbd23e493c7)
ANOTHER DINNER PARTY.
Jennifer plastered on another fake smile as she walked around the crowded reception hall in the Nevada State Capitol.
It’s for a good cause. It’s for a good cause.
And it was. She had nothing against a bill for soldier benefits. She just hated dinner parties like this, endless campaigns, looking good for the press. She knew her father; this wasn’t just for the men and women who served their country. This was just because the elections were coming up in a few years and he was eyeing the White House.
It had nothing to do with soldiers.
Not a thing. It was all an image, another empty promise. She really hated politics. It brought out the worst in her father, a man she fondly remembered as being so different.
He hadn’t always been this way. She remembered a different father, a loving, caring and real man. It was this political side of him she wasn’t thrilled with.
Jennifer picked up a flute of champagne and tried to avoid the flash of cameras as reporters flocked around her father. Her perfect sister stood with her parents, smiling and chatting with the press, eating up the attention. The attention brought to her family made her nervous because she hadn’t had the best relationship with them since her father had got into the political arena over a decade ago.
She was, after all, the black sheep, which meant the press were constantly dogging her heels. They’d backed off somewhat since she’d become a doctor. A doctor wasn’t juicy enough for the paparazzi. Well, it was thrilling enough for her.
She’d rather be in the OR tonight, saving lives, but instead she was here and pretending to be part of the “perfect” family that her father wanted the world to believe they had.
Ha.
No family was perfect, but her father was ashamed of his roots. How he didn’t come from a wealthy heritage.
He didn’t want anyone to know that he was the illegitimate son of a congressman and an intern. That he’d worked with his hands to better their lives.
Her father only wanted his voters to see how he’d risen like a phoenix from the ashes.
Everything else burned away.
Jennifer swigged back the expensive champagne and then took another one, ignoring the waiter’s eyebrow rising as she set her second empty flute back on the tray.
The waiter left before she could take a third.
It was probably for the best, but Jennifer just shook her head and meandered to a safe, dark corner where she could go unnoticed by everyone.
You’d think that accepting a trauma surgeon fellowship on the east coast would be something most parents would be proud of, and maybe her father would be, but her perfect sister, Pamela, had managed to become engaged to a high-society socialite from Manhattan and all Jennifer had managed to do was become a surgeon in a hospital.
It was like she had rabies or something.
No matter what she did, she couldn’t shake off her past. She couldn’t shake off the stigma of being the black sheep in the family.
The one who didn’t want to rise from the humble beginnings of her life and mingle with the social elite. She wanted to help the poor and less fortunate.
She fumbled in her purse for the illicit pack of cigarettes, something which she’d been trying desperately to give up since her days as a hellion teen. She’d been off them for a while, but being around her family made her do crazy things.
“Why do you always do things to make me look bad?”
A shudder traveled down her spine as her father’s voice whispered in her ear.
Jennifer pushed open the French doors and stepped out into the cool night air. The patio was mostly empty. Everyone was inside, enjoying the party.
There was one sad-looking cigarette in the package. Old and almost crumpled. She pulled it out and turned to toss it away, remembering why she’d quit when she’d started medical school.
It was being around her perfect family that made her go bonkers.
She didn’t like the act. Couldn’t they be real?
“That’s not healthy for you, you know that?”
Jennifer spun around and saw that she wasn’t alone on the patio. A soldier was half-hidden in the shadows, only three feet from her, sitting on a bench.
He leaned forward and she could see the hazel of his eyes reflected in the moonlight. His face was slim, long, but there was something enticing about it. When he smiled, it was a half-smile that ended in a deep dimple in his left cheek.
“I wasn’t going to smoke it. I was going to get rid of it. I quit a long time ago,” she said.
The soldier stood slowly and stepped out of the shadows. He was tall, lanky and devilishly appealing in his dress uniform. He whipped off the dress hat and held it under his arm, revealing a buzz cut.
“With all due respect, miss, it appeared that you were ready to devour that cancer stick.”
Jennifer chuckled and glanced at the cigarette in her fingers. “Okay, I thought about it, but only for a moment.”
He stepped closer and took the cigarette from her hand, snapped it in half and tossed it over the side of the patio into the bushes. “There, the temptation is gone.”
“Hey, that’s littering. You do realize that, don’t you?”
He placed his hat back on his head and raised an ebony eyebrow. “Are you the litter police?”
“No, but you’re a soldier. You should know better, hooah and all that.”
This time he grinned and his white teeth gleamed in the darkness. “Hooah and all that?”
Jennifer laughed. “Sorry, I don’t know. I’m on edge.”
“And I just threw away your only means of escape?”
A blush tinged her cheeks. “Something like that.”
“Well, my apologies, but I would hate to have you ruin your years of abstinence by lighting up tonight.”
“I thank you for your concern, soldier. I do.” She snapped her clutch closed. “Shouldn’t you be getting back to the party?”
He shrugged. “It’s not my thing, too many people. What about you?”
“What about me?” she asked.
He leaned in and a tingle zinged down her spine. “What’re you escaping from?”
Don’t let him get to you.
She was a sucker for men in uniform, men out of uniform and bad boys in general. All the types of men her parents didn’t approve of.
Of course, the only men her parents approved of were from money, high society or a WASP. Also known as her sister’s fiancé.
Jennifer cleared her throat and tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear.
“Oh, I’ve made you uncomfortable.”
“How do you know?”
“You’re fidgeting. Admit it, you’re nervous around me.”
“A bit, but you’re right. I’m escaping. I’m not really into shindigs like this.”
“Want to get out of here?”
“Uh, you’re a complete stranger.”
“I’m a soldier, though. Doesn’t that make me honorable or something?”
“Not really.” She grinned. “I’m Jennifer.” And she stuck out her hand.
He took her hand in his and the touch of his skin sent a jolt of heat through her blood.
“I’m Nick. I guess we’re not strangers any longer?”
“Nope. We’re not. What was that you were saying about getting out of here?”
He held out his arm. “I hope you don’t mind riding a motorcycle.”
“I don’t mind in the least.”
Nick turned to lead her back in through the party and she pulled him back. “What’s wrong? Are you having second thoughts?”
“No, I just don’t want to go back in there.” She didn’t want some tabloid to snap a picture of her on the arm of a soldier. Not because it was bad, but because it was an invasion of her privacy, something she held dear because it was the only thing she could control.
He looked around. “Well, can you think of a better way out of here?”
“Hold this.” She jammed her clutch into his hands and kicked off her heels.
“What’re you doing?”
She smiled. “What, you’ve never jumped a fence, soldier?”
Jennifer picked up her shoes and tossed them out onto the dark lawn and then climbed the patio fence, dropping down three feet onto the grass below. “Are you coming?”
His answer was to drop her purse at her feet. She scrambled out of the way, retrieving her shoes as he dropped down beside her.
“How did you know to do that?” he asked.
Jennifer panicked. She didn’t want him to know who she really was. If he knew she was a senator’s daughter, he might not want to “escape” with her.
“It was obvious,” she said, brushing it off like it was nothing. “Now, you have to provide the adventure.”
He smiled again, that half-smile that brought out that delectable dimple. “Oh, I can provide the adventure. Like I said, my bike is parked down the street.”
“Lead the way, soldier.”
He took her hand and they ran across the lawn and out onto the street where his motorcycle was sitting. He opened up his pannier and tossed her a helmet as he put his hat safely away and then grabbed his own helmet.
“You carry two helmets? How fortuitous.” She crammed it down over her head.
Nick took her purse from her hand and put it in the pannier next to his hat. “Well, I like to come prepared for adventure.”
He shut the pannier and climbed on. She sat behind him, gripping him about the waist.
“You’re being reckless. You’re such an embarrassment.”
The words had stung. Like a slap to her face. Her father had never spoken to her like that before, when he’d been a rancher.
Jennifer shook her father’s words from her head as Nick started the engine, kicked the stand and took off, heading west out of Carson City.
She didn’t know where they were going and she didn’t care.
She knew that any rational female wouldn’t go off with a man she’d just met, but something deep down inside her trusted him, probably when she shouldn’t.
Jennifer didn’t even freak when they left Carson City far behind them and headed into the state park.
After almost thirty minutes of driving, he pulled over at the Sand Harbor Overlook in Lake Tahoe State Park.
She let go of her hold on him and got off. Her legs felt a bit shaky, not used to riding on a motorcycle.
“What a great spot,” she said as she took off the helmet, handing it back to him. He’d taken his off, too, and set the helmets on the seat.
“Yeah, I love it here. I was planning on coming here after the party. One last look, you could say.” There was a hint of sadness in his voice.
“Are you heading overseas?”
Nick nodded. “My tour of duty is two years.”
Disappointment gnawed at her.
Damn.
Not that she’d been expecting this to go anywhere, but she was disappointed that they would only have this time together, because once she finished her fellowship at the end of this summer, she could get a job anywhere. Or even stay in Boston. The possibilities were endless.
“See, now you feel all bad for me. Don’t. I serve my country and I’m glad to do it. I also plan to be back to see this lake again.”
Jennifer smiled. “Are you from around here originally?”
Nick shook his head. “No, but I’ve been stationed out this way for a year. Nevada grew on me. I don’t think I want to be anywhere else.”
He walked down toward the sandy beach through the tall pines, which sighed in the light summer breeze. It made her feel a little cold and she was regretting the sleeveless shift dress she’d chosen to wear.
The sky was bright, full of stars and a large moon was hovering over the lake. A large, bright moon that was reflected in the clear, calm water.
Nick stood on the beach, gazing up at the moon. He’d taken off his dress jacket and laid it on a large boulder. He was unbuttoning the shirt, his sleeves already rolled up to his elbows.
“You’re not planning to swim, are you?” Jennifer teased.
He looked back at her over his shoulder and winked. “Maybe. Are you up for skinny-dipping?”
Jennifer chuckled. “Ah, no. It’s cold. Especially here. That water can’t be any more than fifty degrees.”
Nick frowned and glanced at the water. “You think so?”
“I know so.”
He looked at her. “So you’re native to this area?”
“Yeah,” she said, but with hardly any enthusiasm. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Nevada. As a child, she’d loved it. She’d loved northern Nevada, everything about it. The desert, the mountains and plains.
And she’d loved the Lake Tahoe area.
When she’d been younger, her father had had a ranch outside Carson City. They’d been so happy there, but then her father had sold it when she was ten. He’d told them he had bigger aspirations for all of them and he wasn’t going to waste his life grubbing away on a ranch.
So, yeah, she loved Nevada.
It was just her father, the notoriety that went with being his daughter. She wanted to escape all that. In Boston, she wasn’t the senator’s daughter. She was Dr. Mills. Trauma fellow.
She didn’t like being in the limelight. She didn’t like being the black-sheep daughter, afraid to breathe the wrong way, worried that it would ruin her father’s political career, seeing her face plastered on the local newspapers.
A splash and a shout distracted her from those thoughts.
Nick was wading in the shallow water. “Man, that is cold!”
Jennifer couldn’t help but laugh. “I told you.”
“Woo, so cold. Why don’t you come and try it out?”
Jennifer shook her head, but couldn’t stop laughing.
“You know, I never pegged you for a chicken.” He was teasing her, egging her on. She knew it.
“I’m not chicken. I’ve been in Lake Tahoe before. I know exactly how cold it is.”
Nick glanced down at his feet. “You know, it’s not too bad. You get used to it.”
Jennifer rolled her eyes and kicked off her heels. “It’s probably because your body is succumbing to hypothermia.”
Nick grinned. “Come on in. Just wade. I’m not brave enough to go swimming.”
“I’m coming.” She lifted her dress and undid the clasps on her garter belt to peel off her stockings, and when she glanced over at Nick, she could see his gaze transfixed on her legs. He was watching her roll down her stockings.
It caused her blood to heat, the thought of him watching her, knowing he was undressing her in his mind.
What am I doing?
Having fun, letting loose and living the way you used to live.
Living like everyone did.
Once she was free, she walked down to the water’s edge and grimaced. “I can feel the chill from here.”
“Come on in, you sissy.” Nick bent down and sent a gentle splash in her direction. “People up north do this all the time.”
“Yeah, well, people up north might be addled by the cold weather.”
Nick chucked. “Think of it like a polar-bear dip.”
She took a deep breath and waded into the water, which was frigid and bit at her skin like knives. “Oh, my God. You’re insane.”
Jennifer turned to leave, but he was over to her in a flash, wrapping his arms around her waist and stopping her from leaving. They were so close she could smell his cologne. It was a clean scent, but there was something else she couldn’t put her finger on. Whatever it was, it was making her feel faint.
His arms around her were so strong, steadying her.
She glanced up and his hazel eyes twinkled from the reflection of the water and the moonlight. He reached up and stroked her face, his thumb brushing against the apple of her cheek, and she turned her face into his touch instinctively.
“Can I ask you a boon?” he said, his voice deep and husky.
“A boon? Have I suddenly been transported back in time?” she teased.
Nick grinned. “A favor, then, for a soldier who’s about to leave on a long tour of duty. I wouldn’t normally ask this of a woman I’d just met, but this has always kind of been a fantasy of mine.”
“What?” she asked, the butterflies in her stomach swirling around.
Nick leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “A kiss, in the moonlight.”
A tingle raced down her spine. She didn’t know what to expect, wasn’t sure what she was willing to give him. A kiss seemed doable but, then, the way he was affecting her, the way she was feeling, being so free and standing in freezing-cold water with a stranger and wanting to do more than just kiss him …
He was going on a tour of duty and she was heading back to Boston to finish off her fellowship. Their paths would probably never cross again.
There were no expectations and when she looked back on this moment in the future, she could look on it with the fondness of something romantic she’d done, instead of looking on it with regret that she hadn’t taken the chance, because something deep down inside her was telling her, screaming at her to take the chance.
“I think I can accommodate that request.”
Nick smiled. “I’m so glad you said that.”
She closed her eyes as he moved closer. She didn’t know what to expect because kissing had never been her favorite aspect of physical contact.
Every time she’d been kissed before had been less than stellar.
When his lips brushed across hers, lightly, she knew that this was a kiss she’d been waiting for, she just hadn’t known it. Until now.
His hands cradled her head gently, his fingers in her hair. He pulled her body closer so she was flush against him as his kiss deepened, making her weak in the knees.
Nick’s hands moved from her face and down her back. The feeling of his hands on her, on the small bit of exposed flesh on her back, made her blood heat.
The kiss ended, much to her dismay, but Nick still held her and her arms were still around his neck as they stood in the shallow water of Lake Tahoe.
Jennifer took a deep breath. “I … I’d better get going.”
Nick smiled at her. That lazy half-smile that made her heart flutter. “Really? You want to go.”
Yes.
“No. No, I don’t.”
He bent down and scooped her up in his arms.
“Good.” That was all he said as he carried her to shore.
CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_81efb395-132c-58fb-87b8-767e8ef09d94)
Three years later
“I THINK YOU’LL be very happy here as our head of trauma.”
Jennifer smiled politely at the chief of surgery, Dr. Ramsgate, as they walked the halls of the hospital.
“All Saints Hospital is one of the top hospitals in Las Vegas, and with our new trauma wing opening soon …” Dr. Ramsgate continued and Jennifer tuned him out, only because she knew all the benefits of All Saints Hospital—it’s what had attracted her to this facility above all others in Nevada. The new trauma ward under construction would be the most modern in the country.
And her father was happy she’d returned to Nevada in time for his campaigning.
How good would it look if his surgeon daughter was working in her home state? Only Jennifer hadn’t come home for her father.
She’d come home to lick her wounds after her cardiothoracic fiancé had jilted her and then stolen the research they’d worked on together, before marrying someone else. There was no way she was going to remain in the same hospital in Boston with him, let alone the same state.
She’d moved back to be near her family. To hide from the humiliation. To remember why she’d become a surgeon.
Even if it had meant turning down a job at a prestigious Minnesota clinic.
At least it’s warmer in Las Vegas.
So that was a plus. She wouldn’t miss the winters.
Jennifer had had to get back to her roots and, most important, she was going to keep away from men. Especially other male surgeons.
She wasn’t going to make that mistake twice.
“And here’s our current trauma department. It’s not much, but it’s served us well.” Dr. Ramsgate was waiting for her to say something. “Of course, once the new wing is complete, this will close.”
“It’s wonderful. It’s laid out well.” It was a minor fib as she hadn’t really even looked at it, but a quick scan told her she wasn’t being totally false. It was laid out well. It was open and had lots of trauma rooms, with easy access to get gurneys in and out. Though the new trauma department would be better.
The ER was quiet for the moment, though she was sure that could change on a moment’s notice, like so many trauma departments.
She was eager to get this walk-through over and done with so she could throw on some scrubs, a yellow isolation gown and get her hands dirty. Figuratively, of course.
Until then, she had to play nice with the chief of surgery.
“Come, I’ll introduce you to the staff on duty before we head back upstairs to finish your paperwork.” Dr. Ramsgate motioned to the charge desk, where a surgeon stood with his back to them. Jennifer’s brow furrowed, because the surgeon leaning over the desk charting tugged at the foggy corners of her mind.
There was something familiar about his stance.
“Dr. Rousseau, this is Dr. Mills, the new head of trauma.”
The surgeon standing at the desk turned to greet her and when she came face to face with him, the foggy memory that had been eluding her came rushing back, like a tsunami of the senses. It was an overload in her brain, the way it had happened.
Lake Tahoe, a brilliant moon, starry sky and a whispered request brushing against her ear that still made her body zing with anticipation even years later.
“A kiss, in the moonlight.”
It had been three years and she wondered if he remembered her. He’d changed and so had she. His buzz cut had grown out, but his ebony hair was trimmed and well kept. There was stubble on his face, but it suited him. Even more than the clean-shaven face.
And a scar ran down his left cheek and she couldn’t help but wonder if it came from his time overseas. There was no wedding ring on his finger, but that didn’t mean anything. He might’ve come from surgery and taken it off.
His hazel eyes widened for just a moment, then he held out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Mills.”
“The pleasure is all mine, Dr. Rousseau.”
Dr. Ramsgate nodded, pleased. “Well, we’ll let you get back to work, Dr. Rousseau. I have much more to show you, Dr. Mills.”
Jennifer found it harder to breathe, her pulse was thundering in her ears like an out-of-control high-speed train and it was like she was going to derail right here in the emergency room.
Dr. Rousseau nodded, but didn’t tear his gaze from hers until Dr. Ramsgate stepped between them, breaking the connection. If there even was one. Maybe she was losing her mind a bit.
What had happened between them had only been a fleeting moment.
“Dr. Mills, are you ready? I’d like to introduce you to some of the other staff members you’ll be in charge of.” Confusion was etched across Dr. Ramsgate’s face at her absentmindedness.
“Yes, of course.” She fell into step beside Dr. Ramsgate, though not without stealing a quick look over her shoulder at the charge desk, but Dr. Rousseau had disappeared; evaporated like he’d been nothing more than a figment of her imagination.
Only he wasn’t.
He wasn’t a foggy piece of a memory. One that she only allowed herself to think of from time to time. The one perfect romantic moment she’d had in her life. That soldier hadn’t left her standing at an altar, hadn’t stolen her work, and the kiss he’d given her still made her blood heat. Even after all this time.
This was going to be bad.
She had no inclination to allow her heart to open again, especially to another surgeon.
Jennifer knew she’d have to avoid Dr. Nick Rousseau and that wasn’t going to be an easy thing. Especially now she was in charge of his department.
She was in serious trouble.
Nick put the chart back in the filing cabinet. He’d moved away from the charge desk when Dr. Ramsgate had stepped between them, breaking the connection between him and Jennifer. It had been the escape he’d needed.
He wasn’t sure if Jennifer remembered him, from the look on her face. Maybe he just looked familiar to her, someone she couldn’t place. Which was fine. It was good she didn’t remember him, but he certainly remembered her.
There was no way he could forget that night.
Not when it was burned into his brain.
Not when every time he’d closed his eyes for the last three years he’d been able to feel the silky softness of her skin under his fingertips, inhale the fruity scent of her hair and taste the sweetness of her lips.
Though that’s all that had happened.
Just a kiss.
Well, several kisses, but it had been all he’d needed to carry him through his long tour of duty. When he’d been working at the front line, patching up soldiers, saving lives and, yes, even when one thoughtless act of bravery had cost his own brother dearly.
Nick clenched his fist and shook those thoughts away.
No, he wouldn’t think about Marc and he wouldn’t think about his brother hating him right now, because he couldn’t let those emotions out to air. When he thought of that moment, he hated himself. He’d let his anger get the better of him.
There was already talk circulating around the hospital about him, about his rages and about how he’d put his fist through a window once.
He was doing better. Or he thought he was.
Maybe it was seeing her again—whatever it was, it shook him. He’d been surprised to learn she was a surgeon.
That night they’d spent on the beach, talking to each other, she’d never told him that she was a physician, in particular a trauma surgeon.
Then again, he’d never opened up about why he was going overseas on his tour of duty. He hadn’t told her that he was an army medic.
She’d changed, but not so much that he hadn’t recognized her. The long blond hair was gone. She sported a pixie cut, which still suited her. It gave him a better view of her long, slender neck and he knew that if he kissed that spot under her ear she sighed with pleasure.
Don’t think about that.
Nick stifled a groan and left the charting area and headed toward the doctors’ lounge to get a cup of coffee.
He didn’t have time to date and had no interest in it.
After all, he was too irresponsible for any kind of settled life.
At least, that’s what Marc had always said. And, frankly, Nick didn’t deserve to be happy. Solitude was his penance for what he’d done.
After the accident that had paralyzed his brother and left him unscathed, he’d finished his tour of duty with an honorable discharge. Though there was nothing honorable in his mind.
If he hadn’t tried to run out when the medic unit had been under fire to save his buddy, Marc never would’ve followed him.
And though he’d saved his friend and was deemed a hero, the IED had exploded, paralyzing Marc, leaving Nick without a brother.
Not that Marc had died, but he’d cut Nick out of his life. It was like Marc was dead. Nick was definitely dead to Marc.
He was a ghost.
So Nick had left him alone, like Marc wanted. He hadn’t returned home to Chicago. He’d settled in Nevada. In the place he’d last remembered being happy. With the vast, open desert plains and the mountains and foothills to the north, a man could get lost.
And he was lost. His parents didn’t speak with him and neither did his sister. Marc needed them more anyway.
Here in Las Vegas, a man could be forgotten and maybe he’d be able to shake the ghosts of his past.
He just hadn’t expected he’d run into one of them.
Jennifer had never told him she was a surgeon and he’d thought she was in Carson City, which was on the other side of the state, six hours away.
Then her name rang more bells.
Jennifer Mills.
She’d been at that state dinner thrown by Senator Mills. Was she his daughter? The one who’d been jilted? He didn’t know much about it because he didn’t really care about gossip columns. Heck, he didn’t even have cable. Jennifer had her own cross to bear and he wouldn’t pry.
Nick scrubbed his hand over his face. Dammit. She was off-limits for sure. Senator Mills had been the one to present him with his Medal of Honor for bravery. One that he kept hidden away under his socks because he didn’t deserve it; especially after what had happened to Marc.
He was no hero.
He was irresponsible. Always getting into scrapes, and Marc had always been there to bail him out.
Now Marc wasn’t there for him anymore.
Even though Nick’s wanderlust and sense of adventure still ate away at him, he didn’t feed the beast.
He just wanted to work. To be the best damn surgeon he could be. Maybe to show his brother he wasn’t reckless and irresponsible.
Jennifer’s appearance complicated things.
Nick poured himself a cup of coffee. The thought that she’d been involved with someone else made him feel a bit jealous.
Though he had no claim on her.
They’d only exchanged first names. They’d only shared a few passionate kisses under the stars.
He could work with her. Not that he had a choice, because in Las Vegas he was a nobody.
He wasn’t a hero, he wasn’t a soldier. He was just a face in the crowd and that’s the way he liked it.
Nick slouched down in a chair, leaning his head against the low back to close his eyes for just a moment.
The door slammed and he sat up. Jennifer had entered, and pink tinged her cheeks when she saw him sitting there. He liked the way she blushed; she’d blushed like that against the sand when he’d kissed her.
“Sorry, Dr. Rousseau. I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“I wasn’t asleep, Dr. Mills. I thought you were with Dr. Ramsgate?”
“He had a quick cardio consult and he told me I could get a cup of coffee in here.” She nervously brushed at her hair, tucking the short strands behind her delicate ear, like she’d done when they’d first met. Only there were no more long strands.
She moved over to the coffeemaker and poured herself a cup, then proceeded to stand there, staring at the bulletin board, which was full of ads of stuff for sale and take-out menus. Just junk. She fidgeted with her hair again.
Nick could sense she felt uncomfortable. The tension was thick in the air. He knew the feeling of a standoff. The calm before the storm.
“You can have a seat. I don’t bite and you should know that.”
Jennifer spun around and frowned. “You do remember me, you dingbat.”
Nick couldn’t help but chuckle. “Dingbat?”
“I don’t curse much. I try not to …”
“Dingbat isn’t cursing. Now, the F word, that’s cursing.”
She winced. “Why did you act like you hadn’t met me?”
Nick cocked an eyebrow. “You did the same thing!”
“I thought you were a soldier.” She sat down in the chair across from him.
“I was. I was an army medic.”
“You never told me that.” A smile played around her kissable lips.
“Ah, we’re going to play that game, eh? Well, you never exactly told me that you were a surgeon, or a senator’s daughter, for that matter.”
She blushed again. “Fine. You have me, but I would really appreciate it if you wouldn’t spread around the fact I’m a senator’s daughter.”
“Is your father crooked?” he teased.
Jennifer’s eyes narrowed. “Hardly. I just don’t want the notoriety to follow me. I’m a damn good trauma surgeon. I don’t want that to cloud my team’s judgment of me. I earned my reputation.”
Nick nodded. “Of course.”
“Good.” She bit her bottom lip. “Well, I’d better see if Dr. Ramsgate is through. It’s good to see you again, Dr. Rousseau. I’m glad no harm came to you overseas.”
Nick didn’t respond as she got up and left the doctors’ lounge.
“I’m glad no harm came to you overseas.”
Even though she’d truly meant it, it still stung.
He touched the scar on his face. The only injury he’d sustained when the IED had blown.
Could his brother say the same? His brother had been sent home a year early, had had to leave the service.
Nick got to finish out his tour of duty.
Nick could still walk, run and keep up with the fast pace of trauma.
Marc couldn’t.
So, no, he hadn’t come back home unharmed.
Nick crushed the empty coffee cup in his hand and tossed it into the trash. Crushing the cup in his hand sated his ire, but only just. There was only one thing he could do to control this—he was going to bury himself in his work.
He was going to forget that stolen moment on Lake Tahoe with Jennifer, because he didn’t deserve that kind of happiness.
Nick was going to be the best surgeon he could be and maybe then his brother would think better of him and nothing, not even a woman, was going to distract him.
He couldn’t let it.
CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_1c1d8cbc-c188-5c21-a9ad-adf2477471df)
JENNIFER WAS GLAD to get all the paperwork and HR stuff done in enough time to head down to the ER and actually practice some medicine. She hadn’t had a chance to do any in a month, what with trying to find another job and moving across the country after her ex-fiancé had published the research they’d shared and been given a promotion at her old hospital in Boston.
She’d planned to stick it out. After all, he’d jilted her the previous year. She’d held her own and had faced him every day because she’d refused to be bullied out of the career she’d built, but then, when she’d let her guard down, he’d betrayed her.
The hospital board had backed him. After all, he’d been a surgical rock star, a god in their eyes, and he’d bring in lots of money.
Jennifer had been a nobody, as far as they were concerned. Just an easy, replaceable trauma surgeon.
So she’d given them the proverbial finger and left, leaving their trauma department to be run by a moron.
All Saints Hospital in Las Vegas had offered her everything to come and run their trauma department. And they were building a state-of-the-art facility better than that at Boston Mercy. So that was a plus. Even though it felt like she was returning home with her tail between her legs, she wasn’t. No, she was going to make All Saints Hospital shine like a star, like a supernova.
She smiled to herself as she slipped on the disposable yellow isolation gown over her dark green scrubs. The dark green scrubs marked her as an attending, while the interns and residents ran around in orange.
Jennifer shuddered. It wasn’t even a nice orange. Maybe she could have a talk with the chief about changing the color scheme of scrubs at the hospital.
Why the heck are you thinking about color schemes at a time like this?
She sighed. She didn’t need to be having this weird internal dialogue with herself. Ever since David had jilted her, people hadn’t treated her the same. They’d pitied her and she’d retreated a bit into her head.
That was another reason she’d had to get away. Though she knew the people at All Saints knew about her past. She could see it in their eyes, but she didn’t care. She was going to hold her head high.
She was not some screwball, crazy, jilted-bride-type person. She was a surgeon. A fine one.
No. A damn good one.
A neutron star.
Okay, your obsession with astronomy really needs to stop now.
“Dr. Mills, the ambulance is seven minutes out!” a nurse shouted as Jennifer walked into the triage area.
“Thanks.” She headed outside to the tarmac to await the arrival of the ambulance, craning her head, listening for the distant wail. It was a quirk of hers to know exactly how far away an ambulance was by the siren. Only with All Saints being right near the strip, Jennifer couldn’t drown out the rest of the noise to hear anything.
“What do we have coming in?”
She spun around to see Dr. Rousseau in an isolation gown standing next to her.
Damn.
“I thought you were on a break, as in napping in the on-call room?”
“Disappointed that I’m not?”
Jennifer rolled her eyes. “Hardly, but I heard it’s something minor. Something coming from one of the casinos. It’s probably just a myocardial infarction. You know, too much excitement at the slots.”
Nick cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, I think it’s something a bit more than a minor myocardial infarction. Though I doubt you could call any myocardial infarction minor.”
“You know something. Don’t you?” she asked, scrutinizing him. “What do you know?”
“If you don’t know, I’m not going to tell you. I want to see the look of surprise on your face when the ambulance comes in.”
“That’s unprofessional.”
Nick grinned. “Hey, it’s Vegas and what happens in Vegas …”
“Stays in Vegas. I know. I’m from Nevada.” She crossed her arms and stared up at the sky. The buildings from the strip loomed from behind the back of a casino. You could see the top of the Eiffel Tower if you craned your head a certain way.
“It’s priceless. Trust me. It’s a great initiation.”
“I’m the head of trauma. We’re not supposed to be initiated or hazed.”
Nick shrugged. “Come on. It’s fun. Think of it as a morale booster.”
Jennifer was going to say a few more choice words when the ambulance came roaring up. The paramedic jumped out and opened the back door.
“Jack Palmer, a twelve-year-old male who has a three-inch laceration to his forehead.”
As the paramedics were bringing down the stretcher, Jennifer leaned over to Nick. “How is a three-inch lac supposed to be an initiation?”
Nick just grinned. “You’ll see.”
The little boy groaned as the stretcher was placed on the ground. His head was bandaged, there was blood coming through the gauze and the boy was hiccuping between groans. Jennifer stepped beside it and heard a tinny hum of “Happy Birthday.”
“What’s that noise?”
Jack hiccuped. “It’s my birthday card.”
“Where is it? I can hold your birthday card for you.” Jennifer looked on the gurney, while a paramedic was stifling a chuckle and Nick was grinning from ear to ear like a Cheshire cat.
“No, you can’t.” Jack hiccuped again.
“Why not?”
Jack shook his head and his face flushed. Jennifer looked at the female paramedic. “What’s going on?”
“The card is the reason he got the head injury. He swallowed the music player from the card.”
Jennifer’s eyes widened and she looked down at the patient. “What?”
Nick signed off on the patient and the paramedics mumbled “Good luck” before leaving. Jennifer and Nick wheeled the boy inside.
When they got Jack in a triage room with the door shut, he hiccuped again, playing that annoying tune. Jennifer turned away residents because it was just a simple head lac and as Jack was obviously embarrassed about his situation, she wanted to give him some privacy. For the time being, anyway. The news would get around the hospital and she would need to take a couple of residents in when she surgically removed it.
What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.
“Jack, please tell me the paramedics are joking.”
“Would I be here if they were?” Jack winced again, hiccuped another verse of “Happy Birthday.” “Darn.”
“How did this happen?” she asked.
“It was a dare. I swallowed it, choked and hit my head on the table.”
“Order a CT scan. Stat,” Jennifer said to Nick.
“I’m on it,” Nick said, rushing out of the room.
“They’re all going to laugh at me now. Aren’t they?” Jack asked.
“No one is going to laugh at you, Jack. Not on my watch.” Though it was very hard not to laugh just a little, but she kept it together. She peeled off the gauze and began to inspect the head wound, getting it ready to clean and stitch.
Nick had the feeling he was being watched. Intently. He had a sixth sense about when he was being watched. Actually, when he was being studied.
“More suction, please,” Nick said to the intern who was working with him.
“Yes, Dr. Rousseau.”
It was in that brief moment when the intern was suctioning that Nick snuck a glance up at the gallery. There was only one person in the gallery, watching his routine appendectomy, and that was Jennifer.
Not Jennifer. Don’t call her by her first name. She’s your boss.
She was Dr. Mills.
Only he couldn’t think of her as Dr. Mills. She was Jennifer, and he watched her sitting in the gallery, watching his surgery, her arms crossed in a very serious pose.
So different from when they’d been on the beach at Lake Tahoe.
What he wouldn’t give to be back there again. Right now.
Then again, that was a dangerous thought.
One he didn’t particularly want to think about because he couldn’t indulge it, and he so wanted to indulge it, which was bad.
Nick tore his gaze away from her and focused back on the appendectomy. He tried to ignore the fact she was in the gallery. He’d known there was someone in there, watching him. Other surgeons and interns had watched him before. It didn’t faze him, but the moment he’d glanced up into that gallery and seen it was her, it was different.
And it irked him.
Why was she affecting him so much?
Maybe he shouldn’t have flirted with her, but he couldn’t help himself when he was around her. It was like he lost all control.
And control was important.
Control meant that he wouldn’t act before he thought.
That behavior in the past had been disastrous for him. He just had to look at Marc to remind himself of that daily.
“Don’t go out there. Are you crazy?”
“I have to, he’s my friend. I’ll be okay.” Nick ignored his brother’s arguments and ran out into the fray. Bullets whizzed past him, his brother screaming his name behind him.
Nick forced himself to focus as he pulled on the purse strings and inverted the stump into the cecum. He couldn’t think about that right now.
“Your recklessness cost you your brother.” Those had been the last words his father had said to him.
When he thought of that moment, he became angry. He lost control.
So he couldn’t let Jennifer into his head.
When he did, he lost the control that he fought so hard to maintain. He was a respected surgeon. He did his job well.
His anger wouldn’t get the better of him.
No one’s life was in danger and the window-smashing had been a one-off. He rolled his shoulders, tension creeping up his spine. He had to get out of there.
“Why don’t you close, Dr. Murphy?” Nick said to his resident as he stepped away from the patient.
Dr. Murphy handed his clamp to a nurse and moved around to finish off the appendectomy as Nick walked toward the scrub room, with one last look up at the gallery.
Jennifer wasn’t there anymore. She’d left.
He was going to have to try to avoid her. It was for the best.
Of course, he’d said that to himself before, and what had he done? He’d thrown her an interesting case, to watch her reaction. The patient had probably been one of the first of the interesting cases she’d see, working in the trauma department of All Saints Hospital.
He could’ve taken that case instead of surprising her with it.
Once he’d realized how much he’d been enjoying the banter with her, he’d left the room. Left her to deal with the patient on her own and found his own case.
An emergency appendectomy.
He pulled off his soiled gown, tossed it in the laundry bin and threw the gloves in the waste receptacle before heading to the sink.
“Thank you for that.”
Nick glanced over his shoulder and stepped on the bar under the sink, turning on the water so he could scrub.
“For what?” he asked, feigning innocence, though he was anything but. He knew exactly what she was talking about.
“You know very well.”
Nick shook the excess water into the sink and grabbed a towel. “I thought you deserved an interesting case on your first day.”
Jennifer raised an eyebrow. “Swallowing part of a birthday card isn’t very interesting.”
“How can you say that? He serenaded you with every hiccup.”
She pinched the bridge of her nose. “It was an annoying song.”
“How many of those have you seen?”
“None.”
Nick shrugged. “Then I don’t really see the argument. You got an interesting case.”
“Which I promptly passed on to a resident to retrieve through an endoscope.”
“You gave it up?” Nick gasped.
Jennifer just rolled her eyes and walked away from him.
Just let her go.
Only he couldn’t. He followed her. “I can’t believe you gave it to your resident.”
“It was easy for my resident to do.”
“I gave you an interesting surgery. You could’ve had my appendectomy instead.” He fell into step beside her. “I could’ve kept it.”
Jennifer snorted. “I wish you had. As it is, Dr. Fallon is an excellent surgical resident and I’m sure I left the patient in capable hands.”
“I’m sure you did.”
Jennifer stopped and turned to face him. “You did well in there. I mean, I didn’t have a good view way up in the gallery, but you have a good touch with your interns and residents in the OR.”
Her admiration, her praise pleased him. A lot of people had avoided him since his mishap when he’d first arrived. It’s why he was known as a lone wolf, though he wasn’t. Not really.
Nick nodded. “Thank you for your professional appraisal. Is that why you came to the gallery?”
She hesitated and tucked a wisp of hair behind her ear. “Of course. Why else would I come?”
Nick didn’t believe her for one second. He didn’t know her well, but he knew when someone was lying. It was a sort of superpower of his, and she was lying.
“I thought you wanted to call me out on the carpet for a swallowed birthday card.”
Her brow furrowed and a flicker of a smile played across her pink, kissable lips.
Get a hold on yourself. Stop thinking about them as kissable.
“It did keep playing the music over and over. I hope his birthday wasn’t totally ruined. However, my appearance in the gallery was because I’m evaluating all my trauma surgeons.”
“Should I be worried?”
She smiled slyly. “Is there a reason why you should be worried?”
Nick chuckled. Run. Turn and run.
Tension hovered between them and he longed to kiss her again. All he had to do was reach out and touch her. Put his arm around her and bring her close to him, pull her against his body and—
His pager went off before he even had a chance to do anything. Saved by the bell.
“Let’s go, Dr. Rousseau.” Jennifer held up her pager. “Large trauma coming in.”
She pushed past him and ran down the hall.
Avoiding her was harder than he thought.
He was doomed.
Jennifer watched him work across the ER. A large pileup on the interstate had flooded the hospital with crash victims. Thankfully, there were no interesting cases. Just regular trauma—not that it was good, but at least she could scrub in instead of having residents fish music makers out of kids’ stomachs.
She’d gone to the gallery to call him out, but then she’d watched him do the appendectomy. Had seen how he’d taught his residents and interns. He’d been so calm and the fluid motion of his hands as he’d inverted the stump had been pure poetry.
Her ex-fiancé wouldn’t have lowered himself to do an appendectomy. Even though he was a cardiothoracic surgeon, an appendectomy was beneath him. Best left to the general surgeons and residents.
Appendectomies were easy. What he’d wanted had been the high-profile cases. The cases that would get him the press coverage, would give him the glory.
When she’d first met David, she’d admired his drive and she’d swooned when he’d paid her attention. He’d made her feel like a princess, but all she had been was a trophy, and when he’d found something brighter, something shinier, she’d been dropped.
David had got what he’d wanted from her. The publicity, the research and her heart.
Nick seemed to revel in simplicity. Or at least that’s what she got from watching his surgery, his easygoing attitude, but he was guarded.
There was a wall there, one he used flirting to hide, but he was keeping people out. In her brief time talking to other staff members, they’d said he was a bit of a loner. Kept to himself, ate his lunch alone and not many people knew much about him.
The only conversations he engaged in were medical. Case files, papers. The only other thing the staff knew about him was that he had served in the military and been decorated. Something about bravery, but no one knew for sure.
There was also an incident about him getting angry with another surgeon and smashing a window in the doctors’ lounge. Anger issues, which had been swept under the rug. It had happened so soon after his return from overseas that people had given him the benefit of the doubt, but for the most part the staff stayed away from him.
Jennifer would’ve never pegged him to have anger issues.
Everything about him was a mystery.
And she couldn’t help but wonder why.
Don’t wonder. Just keep away.
It was for the best. She was here to work. To be a surgeon. She didn’t need or want love.
When the hubbub of the ER died down and she was scrubbing out of surgery, she saw Nick again. He was rushing down the hall, his surgical gown billowing out behind him as he pushed a gurney to Recovery.
He was a mystery man and she had a thing for mystery men.
Damn.
She glanced at the clock. She still had six hours left on her shift and it was now after midnight. She really needed to get some sleep.
Jennifer headed to the nearest on-call room and collapsed on a cot. As she lay down, she glanced at the nightstand and saw a medical journal.
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.” She picked up the magazine and stared at the grinning face of the man who’d left her standing in a white puffy dress while the press had snapped thousands of pictures of the disgraced, heartbroken and jilted senator’s daughter.
The journal was touting Dr. David Morgan’s medical breakthrough and how he was up for an award for excellence.
With a tsk of disgust and rage, she tossed it at the door just as it was opening, thus beaning Nick in the head, right between the eyes.
She held her breath, hoping he wouldn’t get angry with her. Instead, he rubbed his forehead and bent to pick up the magazine.
“Uh, is this your way of telling me you want me to read more medical journals?” He glanced down at the cover. “Ah, I’ve been meaning to read this one. I’m eager to read all about the Morgan method for aortic dissections.”
Jennifer kept her snort to herself and rolled over in the cot. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to catch about thirty minutes of sleep before I’m paged again.”
The door shut and the room went dark, but she knew she wasn’t alone as she heard him move across the room and the mattress creak across the way.
The room was silent, and even though she was dog tired, she couldn’t sleep knowing that he was across the room. Lying there, all mysterious and handsome, and she knew he was a good kisser. She’d experienced it firsthand.
Damn.
“Are there any private on-call rooms in this hospital?” she asked.
“Nope.” Nick yawned. “Is my presence disturbing you?”
“No, I just don’t know if you’re a snorer or not. I’m a light sleeper.”
“I don’t snore. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve been up for twelve hours.” The mattress creaked again as he moved.
“Good.” She rolled back over and closed her eyes, trying to will herself to fall asleep, but it wasn’t working.
“You know, of all the ways I imagined us sleeping together, this wasn’t how I envisioned it.”
Jennifer’s cheeks heated. “Excuse me?”
There was a chuckle in the darkness.
“What’s so funny?” Jennifer asked.
“I get under your skin, don’t I?”
“No, you don’t.”
“I do.”
Jennifer cursed under her breath and sat up. “I’m going to sleep on a gurney down in an abandoned hall.”
“No, no. I’ll let you sleep.” The bed shifted again and then the room filled with light. “Have a good sleep, Dr. Mills.”
The door shut and Jennifer lay back against the pillow. She didn’t think she was going to fall asleep after her run-in with Dr. Rousseau, but once she closed her eyes again, sleep came easily.
The pager vibrated in her hand and she woke with a start. She flicked on the bedside lamp and saw it was coming from the ER.
It was her first twenty-four-hour shift, and even then she wouldn’t go home after her shift was done. She had something to prove here and she would stay here as long as it took.
This was going to become her second home. Besides, her condo was sparse and empty. If she went home, there would be messages from her father. Invitations for her to go out campaigning with him, to show the voters she wasn’t a pathetic loser like they all believed she was.
She just wanted to escape the stigma of it all.
She wasn’t any of those things. She was a surgeon, for heaven’s sake.
Only the more you listened to the naysayers, those creeping doubt weasels, the more you started to believe it.
And she hated that loss of control.
She hated that her confidence was all shot to heck.
Jennifer clipped her pager back to the waist of her scrubs and headed down to the ER. When she got there, it was relatively quiet.
“Who paged me?” she asked the charge nurse.
“Dr. Rousseau. He’s in Room Three, needs a consult on a patient.”
Jennifer groaned inwardly. “Thank you.”
What patient had he dug up now?
Did this one have a tiger coming out of his chest? Tassels glued to the forehead? Cards embedded in the abdomen?
“Dr. Rousseau, you paged me?”
Nick glanced at her briefly. “Yes, the patient is adamant that they’re seen by the head of trauma.”
Jennifer approached the bed and then froze when she saw her father was on the gurney. “Dad, what happened?”
“Ah, there she is.” Her father grinned. “I had a fainting spell during a speech at the convention center and they brought me here. Or rather I asked them to bring me here. I said I would be in good hands with my daughter.”
Nick’s eyebrows rose.
Jennifer pinched the bridge of her nose. “Dad, that’s all well and good, but as I’ve told you before on numerous occasions, I can’t assess you.”
Her father looked shocked. “Why not?”
“Because you’re my father. I can’t treat family.” She sighed. “You’re in good hands with Dr. Rousseau.”
Her father looked confused. “Why can’t you do it?”
“I don’t have time for this, Dad.” She turned to Nick. “Please keep me informed, Dr. Rousseau.”
“Will do, Dr. Mills.”
Jennifer turned and left the trauma exam room, but Dr. Rousseau was close on her heels.
“Can I speak to you for a moment?”
Jennifer paused and crossed her arms. “Sure.”
“I’m sorry I paged you. He was making such a fuss. I thought discretion would be the best bet. There’s lots of reporters out there.”
Jennifer’s stomach clenched. The press. She hated the press. The damage they did, looking for sensationalist stories, but then again she was biased.
“It’s okay, Dr. Rousseau.”
Nick cocked his head to the side. “I don’t think it is.”
“No, it really is. Just … just don’t spread it around that my father’s here.”
“Okay. I’ll keep it to myself.”
“Thank you. He doesn’t need any more attention drawn to his campaign.” She turned to walk away and then stopped. “When is your shift over?”
Nick grinned, his hazel eyes twinkling. “Are you asking me out?”
She blushed. “No. I just wanted to implement some changes to the schedule.”
“Oh.” She noticed he looked a bit disappointed, but then he shrugged. “As soon as I take care of your father, I’ll be going home. I won’t be in for another shift until Wednesday.”
Jennifer nodded. “Thank you.”
Nick nodded curtly and headed back to the exam room.
CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_e01d5664-f9af-5bd3-9abe-03ea7a8836e0)
“DRAG RACES? YOU dragged me to a drag race in the middle of the desert?” Jennifer shook her head as her best friend Ginny grinned and handed her a bottle of water. “We could’ve stayed at brunch in the air-conditioned bistro or gone shopping.”
She needed groceries desperately and her condo was full of boxes. She’d been working for a week and still hadn’t had time to sort through her stuff or make her condo a home.
“Chillax. This is fun!”
Jennifer rolled her eyes. “Yeah, because this is how I wanted to spend my day off, sitting on a hard bench watching motorcycles race across the desert.”
“Yeah, but look how hot those guys are.”
Yeah, she remembered that. Clearly.
Jennifer chuckled and couldn’t disagree with her friend. Not that she could see any of the riders’ faces. They had nice bodies clad in leather, and she was always a sucker for motorcycles.
Nick rides a motorcycle.
Her heart beat a bit faster as she thought about that moment she’d thrown caution to the wind and climbed on the back of Nick’s bike. He had been a stranger, a man leaving on a long tour of duty, but she hadn’t cared.
That had been when she’d still been carefree. Before the press had got hold of her and David had publicly humiliated her. Though she was more annoyed by the stolen research than the jilting.
The lack of accreditation of her in his paper had made her look like a fool in front of her colleagues. It had been like they’d all known David would screw her over.
David had broken her heart, but she could never regain her research. All the countless hours she and David had spent together, working on repairing an aortic dissection by trying a surgical grafting procedure with artificial veins, and he hadn’t credited her.
Now the surgical procedure was being deemed innovative and the grant money he’d got for a medical trial he’d received, well, he had it made in the shade.
Whereas right now she would kill for some shade. It was too damn hot in the desert. She’d spent too long up north in Boston.
Even though she was wearing a big straw hat, it wasn’t protecting her from the hot sun.
Ginny was whistling as her boyfriend, Jacob, climbed on his bike. Ginny waved at him, blowing kisses.
“So, once his race is over, we can head for a nice air-conditioned bistro or something on the strip?” Jennifer asked, grinning.
Ginny laughed. “If he wins, he keeps going until he’s eliminated.”
“Or wins it all?” Jennifer offered.
Ginny tapped her nose. “You’ve got it. Seriously, though, Jenn, thanks for coming with me.”
“Of course. I’m sorry for griping. Not used to the heat. The North made me too soft.”
“I still don’t know how you survived all those bitter cold winters.”
“Layers. Lots of layers.” Jennifer winked.
Ginny chuckled. “Oh, they’re starting!”
Jennifer turned to the race track. Two motorcycles sat there, revving their engines as the lights flashed from red to green.
In a split second it went from revving engines to a cloud of dust as the bikes raced across the desert plain in less than a minute.
Jennifer couldn’t keep up with the fast pace and the screams deafened her. When the dust finally settled, there were two bikes at the end of the track.
“He won!” Ginny leaped up. “Come on, let’s go down there. I promised him a kiss if he won.”
“And if he didn’t?”
Ginny grinned. “You don’t want to know.”
Jennifer laughed and followed Ginny down off the bleachers toward the track. Jacob and his opponent were riding their bikes back slowly up the side to where all the other competitors were waiting.
As they approached Jacob, he was shaking hands with the biker he’d just trounced and Jennifer had a nagging suspicion that she knew him.
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