MALLORY tossed and turned all night. Visions of her imaginary passionate kiss with JT kept forcing their way into her mind, and she couldn’t go to sleep. Having only brushed his knuckles with her lips in reality, in fantasy she’d met his mouth with her own and given him a long and deep kiss—the kind of kiss that was an invitation to much, much more.
She’d hardly been able to face him the rest of the day, wanting desperately to kiss him!
After an intense cringe, she flopped onto her back and ran her fingers through her hair. “Ugh.” She had to keep this job professional. Then another thought popped into her mind.
Travel shots! If JT had planned a trip to Kenya, he’d have had to get specific travel shots a few weeks prior to leaving the country. Could one of those inoculations have caused his GBS? She made a mental note to track down the shot clinic nurse at work then rolled back onto her stomach and planned how she’d behave like the perfect lady tomorrow, so he’d never suspect how much she was attracted to him.
* * *
Mallory arrived at JT’s on Sunday morning looking fresh and bubbling with life. She also evaded making eye contact with him. Hmm. Maybe he’d pushed it too far yesterday. Maybe he’d misread her cues. They’d always gotten along so easily at Mercy Hospital, and they’d been through so much together recently that he’d forgotten this was only her job. He promised to be on good behavior today, though it would be hard, considering how she’d stirred him up.
JT took a deep breath and tried to think of something non-threatening to say to his special nurse.
Before he had a chance, like a bad dream, his ex-wife stuck her face inside the door, distracting him, just as Mallory slipped into the bathroom to fill his bed-bath basin. Looking aloof and perfectly made up as usual—her hair colored golden with no sign of dark roots, a bit longer than her usual below-the-jaw cut—he wondered how Samantha had gotten into the house.
“James?”
“Samantha,” he said, forcing a neutral tone, knowing his blood pressure would probably register twenty points higher if taken now.
“I’ve brought Corey, like we discussed on the phone.”
The day, once again, looked promising and he felt his blood pressure even out. Finally, a visit from the one person he loved more than life itself. His son peered around the corner of the door, like a shy stranger. His own son. Was he afraid of him?
Samantha had elected to keep him away for all these weeks so as not to traumatize him. Now that he could talk, JT had put his foot down and insisted that she bring his son for the court-ordered visits. He wouldn’t let her get away with keeping Corey all to herself any longer.
“Come here, Corey. I won’t bite.”
“Aren’t you sick?”
“Yes, but I’m not contagious, bud.” He raised his right hand. “I promise.” He wondered why Samantha hadn’t explained that to their son yet.
Corey had filled out more. He seemed taller, too. Trying to act older than his ten years, he’d started combing his hair upward in a faux Mohawk, reminding JT more of a little rascal than a cool pre-teen. He smiled, and Corey cautiously stepped up to the bed.
“Let me see how much you’ve grown.” Up close, he realized Samantha had let Corey get his ear pierced without consulting him first. What indulgence would she allow next, a brow piercing at twelve, a tattoo at fourteen?
He clenched his jaw and tried to keep positive.
“So how’s school going?”
Corey shrugged. “I dunno.”
A painfully awkward fifteen minutes followed. Mallory wisely stayed out of sight. Samantha was only doing her duty to appease the lawyers. He knew she thought she had the upper hand, with him being bedridden, but he still intended to demand the every-other-weekend visitation rights he’d fought for in court.
Just when she’d made a move to pick up her purse to leave, Mallory appeared like a sorceress and a blue rubber ball whizzed past Samantha’s head toward Corey.
“Think fast!” Mallory said, her smile cheeky.
Corey caught the ball with one hand, looking startled but pleased.
“And again!” She tossed another.
He deftly caught that one, too. And for the first time during their visit he smiled.
“Hi.” She nodded to a surprised-looking Samantha. “I’m Nurse Glenn.” She turned her attention immediately to Corey.
“Those are exercise balls. Let me show you how your dad uses them.”
She took one of the balls and held it in the palm of her hand and squeezed. “Like this. See?” She helped Corey place it in JT’s hand and squeeze it with him. “That’s right. We’re trying to help him get his strength back. Before you know it, he’ll be walking again.”
Corey relaxed with a specific job to do. He smiled up at JT and asked. “Do you feel stronger, Dad?”
JT grinned. “Yeah. I do.” Without giving it a thought he tossed the ball to Corey, who tossed it back, quickly digressing from the strengthening exercise to an even better test of reflexes. “I couldn’t do that last week.” He dropped the first return ball and then the other when Corey threw them back at him. He chuckled, and Corey joined him. “I guess I still can’t.”
“You did good for a while, Dad.”
He rubbed the top of his son’s head. “Thanks. What’s this style called?”
“Aw, it’s nothin’. Mom said I should try it.” He smoothed it forward, fixing his hair back to the usual way he’d worn it.
“I hate to break things up, but he’s got a soccer game at ten-thirty,” came Samantha’s cold drone.
Corey glanced at him like he was torn about leaving so soon. JT didn’t want to cause him any unnecessary concern. He was damned if he’d lay any guilt on his kid.
“Hey, you kick that ball around for your old man today, OK?”
“I’ll score a goal for you.” His face lit up, and he stood on his toes to reach over the big hospital bed and hug JT goodbye. Neither let go for a couple of seconds. It felt too good. JT sensed that Corey needed the hug as much as he did. His son meant the world to him, and having him in his arms was the biggest boost to his spirits since the overly chatty yet peculiarly appealing Mallory Glenn had shown up in his life.
“Call me tonight and let me know how you did.”
“OK.”
When Samantha steered Corey out the door, JT spoke up. “I’d like him to stay with me all day next Saturday.”
“He’s got two soccer games next Saturday.”
“Then Sunday. Bring him over for a few hours on Sunday.”
“We’ll see,” she said as she shut the door.
JT threw the ball and hit the wall.
Mallory had the good sense to stay quiet. If she’d said anything just then, he’d have brushed her off. Maybe even growled. Feeling out of control and helpless drove him nuts. His son was slipping through his fingers, and there was nothing he could do about it. He needed to get well, and soon.
* * *
Something told her to stay out of JT’s way for a while after Corey left. He was a beautiful, healthy-looking kid, strongly resembling his father with deep blue eyes and a winning smile. The huge dimples he’d inherited from his mother. How hard it must be for JT not to see his son daily. As a mother, she knew it would rip her heart out.
Samantha Prescott was nothing short of drop-dead gorgeous. Tall, shapely, and impeccably dressed, she was a real high-class soccer mom. How could she come close to measuring up to her? She must have been out of her mind to fantasize about JT yesterday. As if anything could ever happen.
Had he spent enough time stewing over his son? She was about to find out as it was time to change the dressing and clean around his subclavian line.
She flicked his arm with her finger. “Quit sulking. It’s not becoming.”
He stared straight ahead then glanced at her. The sparkle in his eyes had changed to dull sadness. “She wants full custody of Corey. I told her over my dead body.” He shook his head and gave a quick laugh. “She almost got her wish. My illness is giving her the upper hand, and it’s killing me.”
He leaned back on his pillow and dug his fingers into his hair. He stared at the ceiling for several seconds, his jaw muscles clenching. “I can’t ever let that happen.”
Not on my shift, it won’t, she thought.
* * *
Mallory bit her nail while deep in thought. The dim lamp cast eerie shadows across the walls of JT’s room. She sat in the leather chair, feet propped casually on the ottoman.
The hospital bed was in the high position, allowing JT to read the newspaper under a bedside gooseneck lamp. His mood had lifted after Corey called to report he’d scored not one but two goals for his father at the soccer game.
Her brain whirled, and the silence in the room nearly drove her crazy. She couldn’t keep her mouth shut another second.
“So, what shots did you need to get when you were preparing for your trip?” she blurted out.
“Hmm?” He raised his head, his thick black hair kissing his shoulders, a day’s growth of beard shadowing his cheeks. He’d protested when she’d tried to shave him that morning after his son had left.
“Your travel shots. What were they?”
He furrowed his brow and drew in his chin, eyes cast upward in thought. “Let’s see. Yellow fever. Tetanus and diphtheria. Typhoid. Polio and hepatitis A. Oh, and some pills for malaria.”
“Have any of those shots been reported to the centers for disease control as causing GBS?”
He shook his head and looked dully at her. “Haven’t a clue.”
“Well, think about it. It’s important.” It came out more gruffly than she’d meant. She’d only said it because she cared, but what must he think of his nurse talking to him like that?
An amused look crossed his face. He smirked. “I kind of like it when you talk tough.”
She huffed and rolled her eyes. “Did you ask Dr. Berger why he didn’t try plasmaphoresis immediately on you?”
“As a matter of fact, I did. He said I had an unstable heart rate the first couple of days. He opted to try the immunoglobulins instead.”
“A lot of good that did you.”
“It’s all a crapshoot anyway, Mallory. GBS has no cure. It isn’t always controllable either.”
“Has your spinal fluid changed?”
“I’m not letting him tap me again, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“But why not try the plasmaphoresis? It could get rid of the rest of the toxic antibodies.”
“Have you seen the size of the needles they use for that?”
“Come on, JT.” She stopped cold. She’d used his name. It had been the first time. Sure, she’d thought it a million times, always used it when she imagined them wrapped in each other’s arms, but to actually say it out loud?
A curious smile spread across his face. “Are you working at the hospital tomorrow?” he asked.
“Not until Tuesday.”
“Listen, when you work on Tuesday, go to my office.” He pointed to his dresser. “My office keys should be in that ceramic bowl with all the change.”
She stood and crossed the room to dig through the change. The keys were attached to a leather lanyard that looked as if it had been braided by a young boy. No doubt Corey had made it at summer camp or craft day at school. She held it up. A man who could afford sterling silver or gold carried a simple keyring made by his son. The thought touched her deeply.
“There you go,” he said. “Go to my office and you’ll find the latest Center for Disease Control report on my desk. Maybe something will be there.”
“That’s great. Shall I bring it with me next Saturday?”
His eyes studied hers for a moment, then drifted away in thought. “Actually, I was hoping you’d bring them by on Tuesday night. That is, if you don’t have any plans. Now that Wayne’s letting me have thick liquids, I’d love to have a smoothie, too.” He smiled like a little boy. “You know, something with a protein or vitamin boost or whatever.”
What could she say?
“I don’t have plans. What flavor?”
“Peach.”
“Will do. Tuesday night it is then.”
* * *
Mallory felt like a thief in the night, letting herself into Dr. Prescott’s office on Tuesday after her shift. Surprised by the ease with which she found the CDC reports, she gathered them up and swept out of the room almost as quickly as she’d entered.
Once home, she took great care to choose a pair of slacks that fit to her advantage and a colorful form-hugging blouse that brought out the green flecks in her hazel eyes. She left her hair down and brushed it to smooth it out and make it shine. It reached her lower back. She applied mascara, lipstick and gloss, and pinched her cheeks to pink them up. She’d given up on trying to cover her freckles with make-up or powder.
Finally, she felt ready to leave her condo to buy JT’s peach smoothie and venture back to his house.
Was this a date? Not likely. She chided herself about making a big deal out of him asking her over. Still, the atmosphere would be completely different tonight.
Mallory arrived at the cozy Spanish-styled home in the Los Feliz Hills a few minutes before eight. To give herself time to gather her thoughts, she paused inside the car to enjoy the sparkling night-time view of Los Angeles. She parked in the driveway and walked under the large cocoa-brown stucco arch to reach his front door. The evening was warm and dry. Potent night-blooming jasmine bushes lining the walkway tickled her nose with their scent. Using the brass knocker, she tapped out a friendly rhythm, leaving the last two beats hanging.
The house she visited each weekend seemed so different when she came as a friend instead of a nurse. Her stomach tightened a bit.
The weeknight nurse opened the door, looking puzzled. As Mallory only worked the weekends, they’d never met.
“Hello,” Mallory said. “I’m here to visit Dr. Prescott.”
“Oh. Let me check if he wants company.” She closed the heavy rustic wood door in Mallory’s face.
A few seconds later, she reopened the door with a smile. “Come on in. The doctor is waiting,” she said with a sweeping gesture, giggling at her silly joke.
When Mallory reached JT’s room, she became breathless. Someone had sent a barber since Sunday. He looked clean-cut and dashing, with a sparkle in his eyes. They’d removed the tracheostomy, and a small gauze dressing covered the wound.
“She’s my friend,” he said in a voice stronger than she’d remembered from last Sunday, and gestured toward Mallory. “We’ll be fine. You can take a break.”
He looked beyond pleased to see her. If she read his expression correctly, he was taken with her choice of outfit.
She offered the smoothie from behind her back as if a surprise gift. His eyebrows shot up in delight.
“You shouldn’t have,” he said, when he took it.
“You told me to.”
“Ah. I did, didn’t I?” He took a sip through the large straw. “Heaven. Pure and simple.” He lifted an ever-strengthening arm in a Shakespearian actor’s pose. “How does man survive when fed through a stomach tube alone?”
She giggled. “I don’t know. You’re the thespian, do tell.”
He deadpanned. “It was a rhetorical question.” He gave her a feigned impatient look and sipped more. Taking her cue, he continued, “But since you’ve asked…” He dramatically raised his arm again. “It’s only half a life when you can’t taste or eat. Like eating fettuccine without Alfredo or marinara sauce.”
He slurped his drink with great flourish and she smiled at his obvious joy.
Mallory didn’t move when his attention turned from the smoothie to her. He rolled his eyes from the tip of her head down to her rhinestone-trimmed sandals, and suddenly she was glad she’d worn them and almost wiggled her toes so he’d notice her ruby-red toenails.
JT grew serious, his gaze intent on her, his voice close to a whisper. “One last comparison, if I may? It’s like seeing Mallory in a nursing uniform when she could be wearing her black slacks and sexy blouse every day.” He whistled through his teeth. “You are off duty, right?”
She nodded and smiled, enjoying a subtle chill across her shoulders.
He grinned. Deep lines, like parentheses, formed around his mouth. He lowered his voice. “Lady, you look hot.”
Heat rose to her face. She willed it down and nervously scooped and swept her hair over her shoulder to cover her cleavage, realizing he probably thought she was posing for him instead. She dug into her shoulder-bag and produced the CDC reports he’d asked her to bring, preferring to stick to business as usual than explore this newfound electricity between them. Though her mouth had gone dry, she managed to say, “Thank you.”
He patted beside him. “Come. Sit.” She did. He gestured for her to move closer.
She’d never given his bed a second thought when she’d reported to work. But now, off duty, it took on a whole new meaning. She moved closer and sat gingerly beside him.
Her non-official bed-sitting seemed awkward, and she tensed up. That was until she looked into his eyes. They shone dark blue, like lapis lazuli, and she felt drawn into their special hue. Drawn toward the man that possessed them.
He smiled softly at her, she moved closer, and his arm slipped around her shoulders. “That’s better,” he said. They snuggled close to share the overhead lamp, and together they studied the CDC report, while she tried unsuccessfully not to develop goose-bumps.
No great discovery followed. Then a light appeared in his eyes.
“We should be reading the World Health Organization reports, not these. Now I remember. Kenya had an outbreak of meningitis a couple of years ago, and the travel clinic recommended getting a shot for it.”
“So you think it could be the meningitis shot that set you off?”
“It’s possible. It takes four weeks to develop a fourfold immune response, and that’s right about the time I got sick.”
“We need to report this, in case there is a pattern that can be stopped.”
“That’s a good point,” he said.
“We also need to think how this knowledge can help you now.”
“Maybe it’s time for a plasma exchange.”
“Well.” She clapped her hands together. “There’s no time like the present.”
Mallory shifted on the bed in order to look at him better. He took her hands in his and squeezed them. She could feel new strength in his grasp.
“Thank you for caring about me,” he whispered, sincerity softening his eyes. “In all this mess, I feel like you’re the only one on my side.”
She smiled, basking in the pleasure of his gaze. He made her feel special, as if only she had the answers. As if he knew how much she felt for him. A sudden blaze sprang to her cheeks.
“And if memory serves me right,” he said, with one raised brow and a gleam in his eyes, “you are off duty.”
She nodded, feeling suddenly schoolgirl-shy.
“Have I ever told you how your beautiful eyes helped ground me? And did you know you have tiny green and gold flecks in them?”
She shook her head, mesmerized by his words.
“I was panicking about being trapped inside my body, and there you were, confident and gentle. You helped me remember I was still a man.” His hand gently threaded through her hair.
His face grew blurred as involuntary tingles started behind her eyelids. She blinked to bring him back into focus.
“I knew when you were here with me, I was safe. Someone would fight for me—even if it meant fighting me. I knew you gave a damn.”
Enthralled by his gaze, she swallowed a swell of emotion and subtly moistened her lips.
Steady hands guided her face to his. Looking her soundly in the eyes, he placed a long, luscious kiss on her lips.
Instantly, something broke free between them. Their mouths and tongues mingled, almost frantic to connect. His warm and deep explorations sent a shiver through her. She welcomed his tongue. He tasted sweet, like peaches.
Knowing he’d recovered sensitivity in his face, neck and shoulders, she concentrated on those parts of his body. She pressed his shoulders flush to the elevated bed and pillow and kissed him back. She licked the side of his neck and tugged on his earlobe with her teeth. He’d obviously spruced up for her, tasting clean and smelling of citrus aftershave.
He groaned in a satisfying response.
“You started it,” she whispered.
He touched her lips with his own, talking over them. “And I’m so glad I did.”
Before kissing him the way she really wanted to, her eyes drifted to the video camera in the corner of the room. “What about that?”
“I had Jake shut it down the minute I could talk again.” His strengthening hands guided her back to him. “I’ve got my voice back, I don’t need video protection.”
“Maybe it’s time to have him remove it altogether,” she said.
His finger traced her jaw before he held her chin. Staring intently at her, he said, “I promise I won’t tell if you take advantage of me.” Heat flashed in his eyes. He drew her mouth to his and kissed her as if he hadn’t kissed anyone in years.
She moaned a resoundingly grateful response.
Mallory heard footsteps in the hall and quickly broke off the kiss. Frantic to look as if nothing had happened—as though the most spectacular kiss of her life hadn’t knocked her sandals off—she stood, ran her hands over her hair and stepped back. Embarrassed, she didn’t make eye contact with JT.
The nurse tapped on the door and stuck her head inside the room. “Need anything?”
“I’m fine, Gloria, thanks.” His voice didn’t betray an ounce of emotion. Back to business as usual.
The second the door shut, his hand shot out and grasped her wrist, pulling her back toward him. Fire traveled up her arm and fanned across her chest. Her breathing became shallow and quick.
Confusion, fear, and a deep sense of duty had her reaching for the smoothie on the bedside table and shoving it between them.
“Here,” she said.
Disappointment showed in his eyes.
“It doesn’t feel right,” she continued. “You know? I’m your nurse.”
“Not tonight you aren’t.” He put the smoothie back on the table. “I asked you here as my friend, and I discovered what I’d suspected all along.” His hand swept back her hair from her face, and his fingers played with the ends, examining it as if a treasure. “I hate waiting five days to see you every week. You’ve changed my life and the way I look at things. You’ve helped me give up my over-serious attitude and lighten up.”
Unable to resist, she ran her fingertips across his cheek. “I think your illness may have done that.”
He pressed into her hand. “That, too. But you…” He shook his head, his eyes sparkling with wonderment. “You are the most glorious discovery I have made in a long, long time.” His hands massaged her shoulders, kneading and drawing her closer. They ran down her arms until he took her hands in his. “I’m forty years old, I’ve traveled the world and accomplished a great deal, but I’ve never found anyone quite like you…until now.”
Afraid to leap at a chance to explore a new and exciting relationship with a man who happened to be her patient, Mallory felt confused and insecure. She stiffened and tried to figure out the best way to word what she needed to say.
“You know, JT, sometimes patients get gratitude mixed up with desire.”
“You don’t think a man can fall for you on your own gorgeous merits? You think that my attraction has got to be gratitude, as you put it?”
“Surely in your practice you’ve had women fall for you, and you knew it was simply because you had helped them.”
“Of course, every doctor has experienced that. That’s why I’m the perfect judge to figure out that this ‘thing’ between us is completely different. Honey, if you can’t tell sexual attraction from gratitude, you need to go back and repeat your courses on human sexuality.”
Mallory giggled, and lightened up on her self-doubt.
“But if you’re not interested…”
“Oh, no, it’s not that,” she replied quickly.
They stared at each other in silence for several seconds. Her hands trembled gently in his grasp as the impact of what he’d just told her and what she’d just admitted sank in. He helped her steady her hands.
“Let me look at you.” He gazed at her as though she were something sacred. “I want to remember how beautiful you look tonight.” He quickly kissed her knuckles as though having just made a snap decision. “In fact, hand me my camera. I want to take your picture.”
“No!” she said on a burst of embarrassment. “Oh, God, no.”
“I don’t know if I can do you justice, but I’d like to try to capture your exquisite face. The way your eyes smile even when you’re trying to be serious. How your nose crinkles when you can’t believe something—like right now.” He smiled and reached out to feel the ends of her hair, examining them reverently. “I’d love to capture the most beautiful shade of red I’ve ever seen.” He slowly twined the hair around his fingers and gently drew her closer to kiss the tip of her nose. He teased her lips with his, speaking softly. “Let me take your picture. Please.”
Mallory took a deep breath—how could she refuse him? After another insanely wonderful kiss she walked to his dresser to get the camera. She handed it to him, and he took it in silence.
“Now, sit over there.” He used two fingers to gesture toward the chair.
She sat awkwardly, as if she were a child on picture day at school.
“Relax, sunshine,” he soothed, looking through the viewer and adjusting the settings and lens.
Slowly, with sweet and comforting words, he coaxed her to settle down and feel natural. He asked her questions about herself and snapped pictures when she answered. A million thoughts swirled through her mind. What was she doing there? Why had she let herself become emotionally involved with a patient? He clicked another picture. Oh, what the hell. She vamped and slid her blouse off her shoulder just a tad. He snapped again. She crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue. He took another shot. She gave him an exasperated look, and he snapped again. Frustrated, she dug her hands into her hair and gave a mock scream—and he took yet another picture.
The scream brought the nurse rushing back into the room. Suddenly remembering they weren’t alone, Mallory stood, feeling guilty for disturbing the peace.
“We were just horsing around with the camera. Sorry. I guess it’s time to go,” she said.
Disappointment covered his face but something flashed in his gaze. “Friday night. Chinese,” he said.
She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “You’re not eating solids yet.”
“But you are. You told me you liked Chinese food. Come back and visit Friday night.”
* * *
JT would count the minutes until Friday when Mallory returned. She’d become the rainbow in his dead world, and he loved each second with her. He’d quit caring about anyone except his son until Mallory had walked into his life. And he was crazy about her. How could she interpret what he felt for her as gratitude? Oh, no. These feelings went much deeper.
He’d realized that the GBS had receded even more when they’d kissed, by the reaction below his waist. And now his emotional paralysis was receding as well. He had something to live for, and he wanted to get well.
He picked up the phone and dialed. He would call Wayne Berger and demand plasmaphoresis a.s.a.p. He wanted his life back, and he wanted it back now. And if exchanging his plasma with washed cells meant the GBS might recede completely so he could walk again, he’d do it.
Playing the victim had never, ever suited him.
* * *
Mallory worked diligently with a post-op patient on Wednesday. She checked the vital signs every fifteen minutes, and lifted the blanket to examine the dressing for any excessive bleeding. She assessed the patient’s pain level. Emptied the drain and recorded the serosanguinous fluid, along with the secretions from the nasogastric tube in the Gomco machine, and wrote them both on the intake and output sheet.
Yet every waking moment since their kiss last night she’d thought about JT. He’d rocked her to her toes and she was almost certain she’d done the same to him—that was, if he could feel his toes. Bad joke, she knew, but how else was she supposed to handle their circumstances?
He was her patient. His illness had brought them together. He’d never have given her the time of day otherwise. Oh, she’d read plenty of those sappy opposites-stranded-on-an-island-together novels. Things always worked out happily ever after for them, but in reality? She’d always wondered how the story would end if the author picked it up a few months down the road, back in the real world, where the grunting peon didn’t fit in with the socialite’s friends, or vice versa.
Sure, he’d said a bunch of pretty words to her before they’d kissed. But maybe he’d thought he’d had to. No one had to remind her she was nothing more than a distraction to JT while he recovered.
But there simply was no way to ignore the kiss that had opened up her fantasy world, this time larger than life, in living color! And JT was the star.
As far as she was concerned, he’d asked her out on another date for Friday night, and she planned to enjoy every minute of it. And if she was lucky, he’d kiss her again.
She asked the nurse’s aide to empty the catheter bag while she went to get a pain shot for the post-op patient. Before she reached the med room, the ward clerk called out her name.
“You’ve got a call. Dr. Prescott wants to talk to you.”
Dr. Prescott? Calling her at work? Maybe he’d thought of something else he wanted her to bring home from his office.
“This is Mallory.”
“Hey, sunshine. Listen, I need some moral support. Can you come to the dialysis unit? I’m about to get stuck with a needle the size of the Holland tunnel.”
“You’re having plasmaphoresis?”
“Will you come and hold my hand, Nurse Glenn?”
“I’ll see if I can take an early lunch. Let me give this shot first. OK?”
“I’ll be waiting.”
Holy cow. He’d called her at work as if he were her boyfriend. He wanted to see her, too. Yeah, but that could just be out of friendship and fear of needles. But he’d called her “sunshine,” the nickname he’d given her. This “thing” between them was definitely more than friendship.
Her pulse did a little dance, and her face grew warm. Nothing would stop her from holding JT’s hand.
* * *
JT watched the nurse assemble her intravenous equipment after she’d stuck on the heart-monitor leads to his chest and applied the automatic blood-pressure cuff to his arm. He’d been brought to the hospital in an ambulance ordered by Wayne Berger. Now he reclined on the lounge chair in the dialysis unit, waiting for the treatment to start.
Secluded in his little world for so long, he’d forgotten how good it felt to be out among the living again. He loved medicine, and missed practicing it. Odd, when he’d opted to become hospital medical director, he’d given up his patient load, yet patient contact was what he had always liked the most about medicine.
Thinking back, it had been Samantha who’d encouraged him to take the job. She’d liked the prestige, the fact that he would be a mentor to all the other doctors—not to mention the pay raise. He hadn’t been particularly happy since the switch in jobs, and now, if he was honest with himself, he realized he’d loathed the amount of meetings he’d had to attend and the paperwork he’d constantly had to keep up with.
Maybe he would let Wayne Berger keep his job, and he’d go back to doing what he had trained to do, practice medicine.
Mallory rushed into the dialysis unit with a smile like the first ray of light after a storm. Suddenly, for JT, all was right with the world.
“This is so exciting,” she said, squeezing his hand.
The dialysis nurse raised a brow and swabbed the antecubital fossa of his right arm with an iodophor solution to disinfect his skin.
“That’s easy for you to say,” he said with a grimace when he glanced the size of the needle the nurse intended to stick into his vein. “Catch me if I black out.”
“Quit watching,” she scolded, and used her hands on his cheeks to force his head in her direction. “You’ll just make it worse.”
Her grasp was so tight, his lips felt puckered up. “OK. OK. Let go.”
She laughed and eased up her grip.
“You’ll feel a pinch,” the nurse said.
“Ouch!” He jumped.
Mallory patted his hand. “It’s all over now.”
“That pinch felt more like a gunshot wound.”
“You are such a wimp,” Mallory said, and tapped his forehead with her middle finger.
“I’m not used to being on the receiving end, that’s all.”
“Welcome to the patients’ world.”
The dialysis nurse lifted her head just long enough to raise another brow before she went back to releasing the tourniquet and securing the IV catheter with a transparent dressing.
“So, tell me how this works,” Mallory said to distract him further.
“The blood goes through the tubing into that centrifuge and gets separated. The plasma is removed and replaced with frozen plasma or some other substitute if there is a shortage. It gets sent back into my body all fresh and clean of the immune complexes that have been attacking my nervous system.”
“Sounds like a plan. Why didn’t we think of this sooner?”
“Don’t get cute on me,” he said, taking the obvious jab in good humor. “I invited you here for moral support, not to aggravate me.”
When the dialysis nurse moved away to check on the machine, she gave them one last suspicious glance. When she was out of earshot, he leaned forward and whispered, “Though having to keep up a business façade with you is driving me insane. I’d much rather kiss you.”
His words had a devastating effect on Mallory. She turned the color of her gorgeous ruby-red toenails from the night before. As if she’d realized how their relationship had changed, she removed herself from any contact with him for public scrutiny.
Damn. He’d wanted to charm her, not send her running and screaming into the sunset. But he liked the wide-eyed stare she’d cast him just now. Her pupils were large and dark, what he liked to call bedroom eyes. He couldn’t resist teasing her more.
He gave a wry smile. “If I’m lucky, in no time I’ll be chasing you around the hospital bed in my room.”
She said “Ah” on a quick inhalation, and her lashes fluttered. “Will you be quiet?” she whispered. “Someone might hear you.”
Oh, he wanted to see that look again, but preferably when they were both naked. “Life is full of surprises, isn’t it, sunshine?”
By the expression on her face, no one could have been more astonished than Mallory.