The Surgeon's One Night To Forever
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Just that morning, when she’d been in the line at the cafeteria, there had been a couple of nurses in front of her talking about him, as though there was nothing else of any interest to chat about.
“He’s been here for a while, what have you been able to find out about him?”
Liz knew who Marcie was talking about even before Trisha answered.
“Nothing but what I was able to find in the Cramer General website archives. Served in the army and got his training through it. Honorably discharged about five years ago and went straight to Cramer.”
“That’s it? Do we even know if he’s married or not?”
Trisha shook her head, disgruntlement clear in her tone when she replied, “He’s real nice, but a clam when it comes to talking about himself.”
“Even with you, Miss Southern Charm?” Marcie snickered. “I’m surprised you don’t have him spilling his guts over some sweet potato pie and a mint julep.”
“Ha-ha-ha,” Trisha replied, as she elbowed her friend and they both laughed.
Liz too was surprised that Trisha hadn’t had any luck. The nurse was petite, almost elfin, with the most beautiful dark mocha complexion and the face of an angel. Plus, she had the kind of voice Liz remembered, as a teen, wishing she had. It was as sweet and light as fresh whipped cream, not low and raspy, like its owner subsisted on a diet of rusty nails and rye whiskey. Mind you, a voice like Trisha’s would sound pretty stupid coming from her, who was almost a foot taller and nowhere near petite.
As she relayed Cort’s request to Radiology, she resolved once more do something about how often she thought about him, dreamed about being with him in Mexico. She was loath to admit it, even to herself, but he’d turned her inside out that night, given her an experience she’d never had before.
Maybe because of her forthright nature, men seemed to assume she’d be demanding in bed and, since it was the best way to get the satisfaction she deserved, she usually was. However, Cort Smith had taken masterful control of her body, coaxing her to new erotic heights and making her have to reevaluate what it was she truly desired. When she’d snuck out of his room in the early hours of the morning, it hadn’t just been because she’d had a flight to catch. She’d been awash in pleasure so intense as to be frightening.
There was no secret enjoyment in the fact she knew more about the sexy doctor than anyone else at the hospital. Intimate facts that still made her skin heat and her libido go through the roof. Instead, the knowledge she possessed just made working with him harder. Trying to view him just as a colleague was difficult in the extreme, but she was determined to do just that.
Hopefully, the more she had to interact with him, the more likely the annoying attraction she still felt would wither away.
“There.” Cort pointed to where the CT images of Kaitlin’s body were on the screen. “Definite laceration to the liver. And...” He was aware of Liz leaning closer, her attention focused on the movement of his finger, and for a split second lost his train of thought.
“Is that fluid around the stomach?” she asked.
“And air,” he replied, pulling himself together. He was about to operate to try to save a young woman’s life. There was no time for loss of concentration, no matter the source. What he was seeing on the CT scan indicated the internal injuries were probably quite extensive.
And they were. What he had estimated would be an hour-long operation stretched to two and a half hours, as he discovered Kaitlin’s diaphragm and stomach, as well as her liver, had been damaged. As he cauterized and stitched, he reflected on how lucky the young woman had been.
He wasn’t really surprised to come out of surgery and see Liz waiting to hear the outcome. Yet as he took a few moments to take off his surgical gear and wash up, his awareness of her just on the other side of the doors was disconcerting.
Settling in at Hepplewhite, in New York City itself, had been difficult enough, but every time he came into contact with Dr. Liz Prudhomme it intensified his sense of disorientation. Which was funny, in a weird rather than amusing sort of way, since it was something she’d said to him in Mexico that had prompted his move from Colorado.
Although they’d just met, he’d found himself telling her about being jilted only weeks before the wedding. What she’d said to him had lingered in his mind.
Sometimes, when life seems to be screwed up, you need to take a chance on the change that’s been forced on you, you know? Figure out what it would take to make the crappy stuff into an asset, or a benefit. Maybe you’ve had a lucky escape, being dumped. I don’t know, but now’s the time for you to make a new, better plan. That’s what I do when life tries to mess with me, anyway.
On reflection, her advice had made perfect sense. Wasn’t he the poster child for overcoming? For taking whatever effluvium life flung at him and making something worthwhile out of it? In comparison to all he’d been through, being jilted was, in the final analysis, insignificant. It was nothing when weighed against being abandoned as a baby, surviving the foster-care system, or losing his best friend. It was even small potatoes when compared to the depression that had blanketed him following Brody’s death. What it had done, though, was underscore how much he’d been drifting along through life.
The job at Cramer had been a sound choice, given his desire to be close to Jenna and the kids, and, although demanding, strangely easy after being deployed. He’d done well but after Mimi’s defection had decided to reactivate his childhood wish to travel the world, get to know new places intimately, before moving on to the next. And where better to start than in New York City?
It had seemed a perfect plan, until he’d found himself working with Liz Prudhomme and had realized he’d not just made a change but turned his entire life upside down.
He couldn’t make her out.
While he’d never heard her be rude, there was a distance between her and the world, a wall created of solemn, clear-eyed looks and cool professionalism. Although being the epitome of calm whenever they worked together, occasionally she’d glance at him, and all the arousal he tried to suppress rushed through him anew. For him, the spirit of the woman he’d had in his bed hovered in the back of his mind continually. A ghostly fantasy, flushed and excited, her body bowing and twisting with ecstasy yearned for and then achieved.