New York City Docs. Tina Beckett

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       CHAPTER ELEVEN

      TIME TO DO some damage control.

      Practice that afternoon had been a bust. Clay hadn’t been able to keep his mind on what was happening in the ring, and neither could Tessa, evidently, since Marcos—back in royal form after his hospital stint—had excoriated both of them. Publicly. And had told them to be back tomorrow for a private session.

      Everyone else was off the hook.

      There’d also been no end to the questions from Clay’s mom, who’d believed him when he’d said that Tessa had merely slept over. He’d even let her assume that he’d spent the night on the couch, although he never actually said that he had.

      Now she thought he’d lied to her, of all things.

      And had warned him about letting himself get too involved, reminding him that they’d already tried that path once and it hadn’t worked out. She didn’t want to see him get hurt.

      He was no longer a little boy, but he was still his mom’s son. She was worried about him. And probably with good reason. He’d been shocked by the depth of his response to Tessa the other night. As hard as he’d tried to keep things on an even keel, telling himself that it was all about one night of really good sex, somehow he knew it wasn’t. That was as much of a lie as letting his mom believe that he and Tessa had spent a platonic night together.

      As if he and Tessa could ever remain platonic.

      She drove him insane. And not in a good way.

      The worst thing had been when she’d peered a little bit closer at one of the jars and seen the check his mom had made out and slid inside it. It should have grated on him that his parents had voted for Tessa and not for him, but they knew how good she was at capoeira. It would be crazy to bet on anyone but her.

      Tessa’s face had blanched, turning as white as one of the paper sheets the hospital used to cover the exam tables. She hadn’t said a word, just backed away from the jars.

      He had a feeling her reaction had something to do with that discussion they’d had a couple of weeks ago about his parents paying for her education.

      But this wasn’t paying for anything. They were simply contributing to a worthy charity.

      But Tessa might not have taken it that way.

      Clay had been so worked up about his mom getting the wrong idea that he hadn’t bothered to see Tessa’s reaction as anything other than petulant. But maybe it was more than that.

      Tessa was proud. Very much so. Maybe because she hadn’t been born here, she felt as if she had more to prove.

      But he wasn’t a mind reader, neither did he have the time to worry about anything other than the well-being of his daughter. He was not going to drag her through another one of his failures.

      Which meant he needed to cool it with Tessa. Big-time.

      Only he didn’t want to.

      He wanted to sleep with her. Again. Despite everything that had gone on with the hospital and with his mom and Molly.

      He and Tessa had always been great together in that way. And she was a hot, giving lover who made him reach for the stars. The two of them had had some wild times together.

      His body couldn’t be blamed for remembering what they’d done and wanting to grab at more of the same. Especially since his love life with Lizza had been lukewarm at best. Once they’d married, she’d tolerated his advances, but beyond that she’d seemed perfectly content to keep to her own side of the bed. The only thing she’d really seemed to like had been when he’d complimented her on an outfit or admired her beauty.

      And she was beautiful.

      But Tessa had a quality that Lizza could never touch.

      A raw, honest sensuality that went to the very core of who she was. And Clay couldn’t believe no other man had snatched her up.

      Then again, maybe she hadn’t wanted to be snatched up. Tessa was so driven to succeed. Maybe that was enough for her.

      Except what he’d experienced in his bed said she wanted more.

      He ducked into Mr. Phillips’s room to check on the man’s leg. Brian Perry was there as well, reading the patient’s chart. He nodded to the other doctor, who returned the gesture. Tessa had mentioned that the care team had met about his melanoma, and the recommended treatment was a grueling course of chemo. Mr. Phillips had said no.

      “How’s our patient?” Clay asked. He wouldn’t admit that he was disappointed it wasn’t Tessa in the room. At least, not to the other doctor.

      Mr. Phillips was the one who answered. “I’m ready to go home, that’s how I am.”

      It was said with a smile but, still, he could hear a little note of impatience in the man’s voice.

      “I’m sure it won’t be much longer. But you’re going to need to visit a rehab center to get back on your feet. You realize that, don’t you?”

      “I think I’ll skip that, if it’s all the same to you, Doc.”

      Clay looked at the patient’s face and saw a tiredness and grim resignation that made his chest ache.

      In the end, it was Mr. Phillips’s decision, and Clay had to respect that. “Is your daughter still here?”

      The man nodded. “She’s going to stay for a while. Her kids are grown, and she said she’s wanted to take a vacation for the past year.” He shifted on his bed. “I don’t think this was quite what she had in mind.”

      Maybe not, but Clay was glad someone was going to be with him. Maybe she would even talk her dad into moving closer to them.

      “I’m sure she’s just happy to get to see you for a while.” He did a quick check, measuring function in his damaged leg. Dr. Perry stood a few feet back, watching the proceedings without saying anything. Clay assumed he’d already done his own assessment on the site where they’d removed the melanoma. But maybe not.

      Once he finished and told Mr. Phillips he’d return tomorrow with news about when he’d be released, he left the room, only to have Brian follow him.

      He turned toward the other man. Maybe he’d been right the first time he’d seen Dr. Perry and Tessa doing surgery together. He’d gotten a funny feeling that the other man might like her. Could be that he was going to ask about those damned jars or warn him off.

      To which he’d offer a warning of his own: that the man needed to mind his own business. He was in no mood to spare anyone’s feelings at the moment.

      “You and Tessa know each other from… before, right?”