Six Sexy Doctors Part 2. Joanna Neil

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СКАЧАТЬ and even the quiet moments. When shared with Liz, every instant took on meaning.

      This very moment held dear meaning, held his last taste of her sweetness, his last caress of her body, his last everything.

      Although it would be all too easy to find himself cursing his diseased body, he wouldn’t allow the self-pity to take over his mind, to cause him to weep in her arms. Instead he’d focus on everything good, focus on Liz, and the blessing she’d been in his life.

      Making love to Liz was for him, not her, and he felt very guilty.

      Sure, she’d looked content when she’d dozed off snuggled in his arms. Even now, in her sleep a satisfied smile played on her lips.

      But he was a selfish jerk for being here. For clinging to something that could no longer be.

      One night, he’d told himself when he’d foolishly taken her into his arms.

      He’d had his night, and what a night it had been, but sunrise was only a few short hours away. He’d go before Liz woke up, go before the sun rose, but until the harsh reality of dawn came he’d hold her, breathe in her freshness, and cherish every second of what he feared would be the shortest but most precious few hours of his life.

      Sparkly sunlight danced across Liz’s face, but she didn’t open her heavy eyelids. Her body felt deliciously warm inside, which seemed odd as she ached from the night’s activities. The night’s multiple activities.

      Adam had been insatiable. A veritable tiger in bed. Lord, but she felt ravaged.

      Thoroughly loved.

      Smiling, she rolled onto her side, expecting to bump into his long, lean body.

      She didn’t.

      That’s when the quietness registered. No sounds of Adam breathing. No sensation of him being next to her.

      Opening her eyes, only the imprint of where he’d slept remained in her bed. That and his spicy male scent.

      A moment of panic raced through her, then she chided herself for her fear. He was probably in the bathroom. Or the living room. Or…he might have left.

      She had to know.

      Slipping out of the bed, she quickly discovered Adam wasn’t anywhere in the small house.

      She dropped onto the sofa, her nose twitching at her barely touched salad from the night before. A tiny gnat landed on a wilted leaf, giving testament to the sad state of her morning.

      Adam had left without waking her.

      Clammy heat covered Liz’s body and she dry-heaved until her body ached.

      CHAPTER FIVE

      “BUENAS dias, Señora Sanchez,” Liz greeted the recovering gallbladder patient in room twelve. She gave the woman a bright smile and explained that she’d be assessing her every hour.

      Liz went through the routine vitals and was pleased to find the drowsy Hispanic woman’s temperature, blood pressure, pulse, and respirations normal. She checked the three tiny surgical incision sites on her right upper quadrant.

      “Everything looks wonderful,” she explained in Spanish. Although not fluent, she had taken enough courses and listened to enough tapes while sitting with Gramps that she usually communicated without too many problems.

      She made proper notations in the chart and explained that if everything remained well, Dr Cline would be by soon to write discharge orders. Surgery in the morning, home in the afternoon. Thank you, HMOs.

      Adam. No, she wasn’t going to think about him right now. It had been two days since he’d left her sleeping. She’d wanted to call him, to demand to know what was going on, but she hadn’t.

      Neither had he called her.

      After making sure her patient was comfortable, Liz poked her head into May Probst’s room. “How are you doing, May? Is there anything I can get for you?”

      May hadn’t been assigned to her this morning, but Liz knew the pleasant older woman well. She’d been a friend of her grandparents and often volunteered at the hospital through the women’s auxillary. May had likely been the only true friend of Gramps to attend his funeral.

      Unfortunately May had been having nausea for months that she’d written off as a peptic ulcer despite antacids only giving minimal relief. A few weeks ago she’d begun having stomach pain. Her abdominal CT had shown a questionable mass and Dr Mills, a young general surgeon whose father ran the hospital board with an iron fist, had performed exploratory laparoscopy that morning. Liz didn’t like the arrogant young surgeon, but perhaps that was because he’d taken an instant dislike to Adam. Liz suspected it was a top-dog kind of thing. Dr Mills had a long way to go before he’d be the same caliber surgeon as Adam.

      Cautiously scooting up in her bed, May gave a kind smile. “Kelly’s taking good care of me so I can’t complain.”

      “Can’t? Or won’t?” Liz moved to beside the bed and automatically raised the safety rail. “How did your procedure go? I’ve been swamped this morning and haven’t had a chance to ask anyone.”

      May clasped her hands in her lap. “Dr Mills found my problem.”

      “I’m glad.” But May’s eyes held an odd light. “What exactly did he find?”

      “The radiologist who read my CT scan was right. I do have a tumor.”

      Was May purposely being vague?

      “Dr Mills removed it?”

      “No,” she softly denied. Too softly.

      “No?” Liz asked. Something must have gone wrong for the surgeon not to have taken out the tumor. Generally, while the patient was already under anesthesia and on the operating table, the mass would have been excised. “Why not?”

      May hesitated a few moments before lifting brave eyes to Liz. “Apparently, it’s wrapped around my colon, ureter, renal artery, and perhaps my abdominal aorta.”

      “Oh, May.” Liz covered her mouth with her hand. “I’m so sorry.”

      “Don’t be sorry, child. It’s not your fault.”

      “Dr Mills is going to schedule excision soon?”

      Removing such a mass would be difficult, risky. Perhaps prior to proceeding the surgeon planned to consult with a vascular surgeon, perhaps a nephrologist, too.

      May shook her head. “He says it’s inoperable. That I’d die on the table and leaving it alone is my best option.” She smoothed the crisp white sheet covering her. She wore a brave expression, but Liz didn’t buy it.

      “Your best option?” Liz scowled. “Is the tumor so slow growing that he doesn’t think it’ll kill you?”

      May winced and Liz regretted her blunt statement. “I’m sorry, May. Sometimes I just want more aggressive treatments than those doctors deem the best option. I think you should get a second opinion by a more СКАЧАТЬ