The Rebel Doc Who Stole Her Heart. Susan Carlisle

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      “I just hadn’t thought about going.” That wasn’t true. It had been her and her father’s special place. The memories were just too strong there. They made her miss her father more.

      “Maybe it’s time to try it again.”

      She finished scrubbing her nails. “I don’t think so.”

      “Well, I hope you change your mind. It could be fun. If they still have burgers, I’ll buy you one,” he said, passing her on his way toward the OR.

      A few minutes later she entered behind him. The team was talking and softly laughing at something Ty must have said. He seemed to always be saying something outrageous. She couldn’t blame her team for reacting. She’d smiled more since she’d met him than she had in a long time, but her nerves had been on edge just as often.

      Everyone quieted down and became attentive when she joined them. “Are we ready to begin? By the way, it’s nice to see you here ahead of me, Dr. Smith.” Her voice carried a teasing tone. She didn’t tease. What was happening to her?

      “Glad to be here. This time I wasn’t stuck helping out at a car accident.” His gaze caught and held hers.

      He’d made his point. It figured he’d have a good reason that would make her feel bad about her actions the day before. “Understandable. I hope everyone was okay.”

      “Everyone was fine. I’m ready to begin when you are, Michelle.” His eyes twinkled when he said her name.

      Her jaw tightened beneath her mask. Demanding that the aggravating man call her by her formal name in the OR was a battle she didn’t think she could win. She’d let it go unless it happened at an improper time, like in front of a patient.

      She glanced around to find all eyes on her. Their faces were covered but she had a sense that their mouths had dropped open. She imagined they were following the interaction between her and Ty with great interest.

      Unwilling to let the team know he’d gotten a reaction out of her, she cleared her throat and said in her most efficient tone, “Let’s begin.”

      Later, Ty sat behind the nurses’ station on the heart floor, reviewing patient charts before his pre-op visits. He and Michelle would share three cases the next day. Finished with the chart he’d been reviewing, he closed it as the clip-clip of heels tapping tiles drew his attention. He looked up to see Michelle coming towards him. Her hair was pulled tight behind her head and she was dressed in soft gray pants with a silky pale pink blouse. Over that she wore a finely pressed lab jacket. There wasn’t a wrinkle on it and he’d bet a weeks’ pay it was starched. Her high heels were the same dove-gray as her pants except for the tips of the toes, which were hot pink.

      Disappointment filled him over missing a view of her legs. She had exceptionally fine legs.

      For such a strong-willed woman she sure wore feminine colors. This outfit was just as tailored as yesterday’s, letting no one mistake her as anything other than a female. She was a paradox. All hard edges in manner and all soft and sensual curves in looks. Which was the truer Michelle? He’d like to know.

      She glanced in his direction. When he smiled she quickly looked away and continued towards the room of one of her cases. He returned his attention to the computer screen and the chart of his next patient.

      Opening another file, he looked up to see the nurse assigned to Shawn stamping toward the desk. Her lips were clamped into a tight, thin line. She stopped in front of the nurse sitting two chairs down from him. Through clenched teeth she hissed, “Abby, please watch my patient for a few minutes. The ice queen is riding her broom again.”

      The nurse she spoke to looked none too happy but she said, “Okay. But don’t be long. I don’t want to be in her line of fire either.”

      “I just need to blow off some steam for a minute. At least she has moved on to poor Robin’s patient.”

      Ty saw Michelle approaching, but the two nurses had not. He didn’t miss the look of glass-shard pain in Michelle’s eyes before she blinked and her face became an unemotional mask. He had no doubt she’d heard every word. It had hurt her. By the look in her eyes—deeply.

      “Excuse me, if you are not too busy, could you get me a number where I can reach Shawn’s family?”

      The first nurse wheeled about, shock covering her face. “Uh, yes, yes, ma’am. I have it in the chart.”

      The nurse must have forgotten about blowing off steam because she hurried to pull up the chart on one of the computers behind the desk.

      Ty focused his attention on Michelle but she didn’t even glance at him.

      The nurse handed a slip of paper to Michelle.

      “Thank you,” she said stiffly.

      She walked off. For once Ty felt sorry for her.

      Not long afterwards, Ty started his pre-op rounds, visiting the patients on the next day’s surgery schedule. One of them was running a fever. He’d have to speak to Michelle about postponing surgery at least a day.

      He could call her but after what had happened earlier he felt compelled to talk to her personally. Just for a second when she’d turned to leave he’d seen a crack in her mask, a deep sadness. He asked a nurse where to find her office. While he walked down the long hall in that direction, he told himself that he would be concerned about anyone who might have had their feelings hurt so publicly. It had nothing to do with Michelle in particular. He made a point not to get involved on a personal level. So why had her reaction gotten to him?

      Stopping at the woodgrained door with her name on a plate beside it, he tapped. Seconds later a subdued, “Come in,” reached his ears.

      Opening the door, he stepped in. The blast of color before him made him jolt to a stop. The walls of Michelle’s office were a warm yellow but what really got his attention was the huge bright red poppy painting hanging behind Michelle’s head. That, he hadn’t expected. The woman just got more interesting all the time. Her desk was the traditional hospital style but on it were modern office supplies, not typical business issue. There were two bright ultra-modern chairs covered in a fabric that coordinated with the painting and the color of the walls in front of her desk. This was obviously her haven.

      Michelle’s eyes widened when she saw him. They were bloodshot, pink-rimmed. His gut squeezed. She’d been crying. She wouldn’t be happy he’d noticed either. He moved toward her desk.

      “What can I help you with, Dr. Smith?” Her flat tone said she wanted to get rid of him as quickly as possible.

      “Please make it Ty.”

      With a sound of annoyance she said, “Is there a problem … Ty?”

      Michelle said his name as if it was painful. She still resisted any relationship that being on a first-name basis implied.

      “Mr. Marcus has spiked a fever.” He glanced down at the garbage can sitting beside her desk. Inside were Cellophane wrappers and white paper squares. She’d been eating chocolate cake rolls, no doubt feeding her emotions. So the woman was undeniably human.

      When his gaze came back up it was seconds before hers met his. It quickly fluttered away again.

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