SNOW HADN’T BEEN able to help himself.
That jerk had almost clocked Kirsten with his elbow and hadn’t even apologized. What he should have done, though, was switch places with her rather than put his arm around her. Because when she’d laid her head on his shoulder...
Every protective instinct he had had risen to the occasion. Along with something else that had nothing to do with protection. Snow normally controlled every emotion that came into existence, only allowing them out after he’d examined them for any sign of irregularity. And the ones he’d had just now? They’d rushed out before he was even aware of them. Impulsive. Unexpected. Taking him completely by surprise. And that scared the hell out of him. Because what if one of them wrested control from him?
But the choice now was to nudge her away from him, and how was that being any less of a jerk than the eager tourist on her other side? The truth was, despite that fear, he kind of liked the feeling of having a woman leaning against him again. The most he’d done since his divorce was pass the time with a couple of women he barely knew. And they’d been the ones who’d pursued him, not the other way around. Unfortunately, one of them had been a nurse from a different department at the hospital who had sent him a barrage of text messages afterward, asking if he was interested in dinner. In a movie. In more of the same. “Just as friends, of course.” Well, he didn’t believe that, so he’d finally met with her and had a very uncomfortable discussion. It had worked. She hadn’t texted him again. Nicola told him later that she’d spread some pretty nasty rumors about him to anyone who would listen.
He did not want to wind up in another situation like that. So he’d decided the best course of action was to stay as aloof as possible. And not talk about his past, if he could help it.
The boat docked with a gentle bump, and the tourist leaned over the rail, still snapping shot after shot of the Statue of Liberty, before finally moving away.
Kirsten’s head lifted from its perch, leaving him with a strangely empty feeling. He uncurled his arm, noticing her face was pink-tinged.
“I’m sorry about that.”
He smiled. “Again, not your fault.”
It wasn’t his, either, so why was he feeling so guilty? Ever since the nurse incident, he’d worried about sending the wrong signals, even though he’d gone over and over the events leading up to them sleeping together. The nurse had sat at his table at a hospital fundraiser and had made eyes at him all night. She’d asked him to dance when the music had turned slow. One thing had led to another and he’d left with her, only to regret it almost immediately afterward. Especially when those messages started hitting his in-box.
He did not want a repeat of that situation. Or the feeling of having no control over a situation.
Like this one? Maybe.
So why was he taking Kirsten on a sightseeing trip?
Maybe because she seemed lonely somehow...and hinted that she might not be at NYC Memorial for the long haul. And because he truly was grateful for the help she’d given him with Tanya.
They stood and joined the line to disembark. Maybe it was time to turn things back toward work. “So why don’t you tell me about your patient. The one you want me to look at on Friday.”
A tiny frown marred her brow. “Oh, um, I didn’t bring her file with me.”
“I didn’t expect you to. I’m just interested in knowing some more about the case.” And shaking myself back to reality.
“Oh, okay.”
So she described what had happened on each of the previous visits along with the treatments she’d tried. “I’m not convinced anymore that it’s a recurrent bronchial infection. Even a viral cause would either get better or worse, not just hang there indefinitely with no response to medication.”
“You’ve ruled out neoplasms?”
A neoplasm was an abnormal growth of cells. While some neoplasms were benign, they could still cause inflammation that acted as a trigger for other symptoms.
They walked down the gangway and then down the long pier that separated New York from New Jersey. “No. I’m hoping to do that on Friday with an MRI.” She stepped onto Liberty Island itself and stared at the towering statue in front of them. “Oh, wow. That’s amazing. And huge.”
With its pedestal half the size of the monument itself, the Statue of Liberty was an impressive sight. “It’s something, all right. I’m sorry we won’t be able to go all the way to the crown.”
“It’s really okay. I’m just happy to be able to see it at all.” She turned back toward him. “Sorry. We were in the middle of talking about my patient.”
“We can do that later. You didn’t come here to talk about hospital stuff.”
He needed to remember that. Even though he’d decided he needed to keep things professional, he was forgetting that not all women were like his ex, whom he should have been able to trust with his deepest secrets, but had never been able to get beyond the edges of the truth. Or even like the nurse down in Maternity. And Kirsten had shown no signs of being interested in him. Even putting her head on his shoulder had probably been an attempt at staying out of reach of that tourist. She hadn’t meant anything by it at all. He’d been the one to haul her closer, for God’s sake.
They worked in overlapping medical fields, so it was natural that they would get to know each other a little more than if they worked in separate departments. He just needed to find the line that separated personal and professional and do his best not to stray onto the wrong side of it.
They walked the distance to the sculpture itself. “The Statue of Liberty was actually placed inside Fort Wood, which had points like a star. It makes a perfect base.”
“It does. I can’t get over how big it is. Much larger than I expected.”
He tried to see it through her eyes, which wasn’t hard. Although he’d been here many times, its sheer size and presence still inspired awe. “It is big.”
“So we get to go up into the...what did you call it?”
“The pedestal. And, yes, we have tickets. There are actually some interesting things housed in the building. We can either take the steps up to it or there’s an elevator that goes most of the way.”
“I think I need the exercise, if that’s okay with you.”
Perfect. He could use some time to regain his footing, anyway. “It’s fine. I just wasn’t sure with your...” He nodded at her skirt and shoes. She looked cool and comfortable, and far too beautiful.
And there he went again. Even more reason to take the slower route.
“It’s kind of my go-to wear. And my shoes are almost as comfortable as tennis shoes. Now if my skirt was short, I might be going with the elevator, for obvious reasons.”
Ha! Obvious reasons. Reasons he didn’t need to be thinking about.
They wandered around the lower portion of the pedestal, and Snow pointed out different sights. “You’ll see a lot more from the top of the building.”
They trekked up the two hundred odd stairs that led to the center of the building. Snow frowned, then looked at his phone. “They used to have the old torch in here, I’m not sure... Ahh, they moved it to the new museum a couple of years ago. I should have looked to see. But this is what it looked like.”
Kirsten came to stand next to him, looking at the image on his phone. “Oh, wow. Gorgeous. Why did they decide to replace it?”
“It was getting worn and the seals were leaking, letting water inside. After a while it wasn’t feasible to keep trying to patch it up.”
She glanced at him. “Sounds like what you do at the hospital. Replace things that can’t be patched up.”
“I never thought of it that way before.” She had a point. “But the best course of action is to try to repair things so they don’t need to be replaced.”
She sighed. “It doesn’t always work out that way, though, does it? Sometimes things just can’t be repaired no matter how hard we try.”
Like his childhood? His marriage? But in those particular situations, there were no transplants that would have allowed his dad to become a normal father, or that would have allowed Snow’s marriage to live and thrive.
“You’re right. Sometimes they can’t be repaired.”
She leaned back to look up at him. “I’m worried that my young patient might be one of those. I know children have transplants, too, but that’s a lot of years to live with the immunosuppressant medications and the fear of eventual rejection. Or cancer.”
“Yes, it is. But the alternative is death.” That’s exactly what had happened to his marriage. To his relationship with his dad.
“Yes. It is.”
Was she thinking about her mom? He hadn’t meant to put it quite so bluntly, but his thoughts had been chaotic over the last hour. “That came out a little harsher than it should have. And I’m sorry. Sometimes things just don’t move quickly enough to save people.”
She studied his face, her brow clearing. “You’re talking about my mom.”
“Yes.”
“She just couldn’t hold on until an organ became available, and at the end, she went on hospice care so they could keep her comfortable. It was no one’s fault. It’s kind of a crapshoot at times, isn’t it? The whole transplant process.”
“Yes, it’s a matter of luck and timing.”
Luck. Both good and bad. Good for the recipient, but terrible for the ones having to make heartbreaking decisions about loved ones.
Maybe she sensed his thoughts because she touched his hand. “I don’t envy you your job, Snow. You’re the patient’s last stop. Their last hope. Most of the time, I’m not. If I run out of options, and they’re still young and healthy enough, I can refer their cases to you and wash my hands of them.”
Somehow, he doubted she washed her hands of them. Even when the patient wasn’t hers, like Tanya.
“Except not everyone is eligible for a transplant.” He turned over his hand and curled his fingers around hers. “And that is the hardest thing of all. Deciding who has the best odds for a successful outcome.”
“Yes, it is. I remember the moment a doctor told my mom she was terminal. He wasn’t very kind about it, just kind of chilly and detached, like he’d already handed her over to death. I vowed I would never be that kind of doctor. Except it’s not that easy. If you allow yourself to feel everyone’s pain...” Something shimmered in her blue eyes. “Well, I wouldn’t be able to help the next patient or the one after that, if I couldn’t get past my emotions. But it’s hard. Really hard. There are just some patients...”
Like the one she wanted him to look at? For Snow, who was so used to controlling his feelings, he probably came across like the doctor who had told Kirsten’s mother she was terminal. It wasn’t intentional. And he wasn’t trying to be cruel—or detached, like she’d said—but there was an element of self-preservation involved. Like there’d been during his childhood, when survival mode was the only mode under which he knew how to operate. Bits and pieces of that instinct still came out at times, and although he no longer feared for his life, deciding which emotions to pull out of hibernation was not an easy thing. He’d learned that during his marriage.
Sometimes it had been damn near impossible. Especially since there were times he still woke up in a cold sweat, thinking he heard something rattling his doorknob. He still locked his bedroom door at night to try to ward off those dreams.
Damn! Not something he needed to think about right now.
“Yes, you’re right. It is hard.” He released her hand, curling his fingers into his palms instead. “But being a doctor was never about being easy.”
“No, I suppose not. But there are times when I relish the easy cases. The ones that I can solve and they stay solved. Those have happy endings.”
“I think we all relish those types of cases.”
She pulled her gaze toward one of the windows, seeming to shake away her thoughts. “So what are the views like up here?”
“They’re great. Ready to see?”
“Yes. I’m definitely ready.”
The sun was sinking low in the sky by the time they got through the Liberty Museum and visited Ellis Island. Back on the ferry once again, she realized she was exhausted, and despite her reassurances that her shoes were comfortable, her feet were a little more tired than they should have been. She slid her feet partly out of them and curled her toes before putting the shoes halfway on again.
“Hurting?”
“Yes, a little bit. I think they would have been tired even in tennis shoes, though. Sandals would have been worse.”
“Probably. Especially on those stairs.”
“Ah, yes, the stairs. Was I the one who actually suggested we go up them, rather than use the elevator?”
He grinned. “You were. Regretting it now?”
“Not exactly regretting, but wishing I was about twenty years younger.”
His smile turned into a laugh. “You’re not exactly ancient, Kirsten. You’re what? Thirty? Thirty-one?”
“Thirty-two.”
“Oh...so you are ancient.”
She jabbed his arm. “That’s not very nice.” She knew he was joking, but it was more fun to pretend offense.
“No one has ever accused me of being nice.”
Was he serious? Maybe. Hadn’t she thought he matched his name, when she first met him? But she was finding that he had his moments. Like when he’d pulled her closer to help distance her from that tourist who was busy taking photos. “You’re not so bad. Most of the time.” She smiled to take away the sting. “Thanks for today, by the way. I had fun. I had no idea there was so much to see on the islands. At this rate, though, it will take me years to see all of New York.”
“You have plenty of time.”
She didn’t. Not really. But she wasn’t going to tell him that. And she was not going to ask him to go with her again. Once was enough. Why? Because she’d enjoyed today a little too much. “I’ll start making my list of things to see.”
“Well, at least you can check one item off of it.”
“It’s going to be hard to outdo what I saw today.” She forced her feet back into her shoes as she spied the dock up ahead. In a few moments they would be getting off the boat and heading back to their normal everyday routines. She had to admit, there was a small part of her that didn’t want today to end. And that wasn’t good. Because everything came to an end, eventually. Everything.
The boat docked and everyone stood. The second she put weight on her aching feet, they protested and she realized the right one had gone to sleep from the way she’d been sitting. Her foot felt nothing. But she knew well enough that pins and needles would soon erupt beneath her sole, making her want to laugh and cry all at the same time. Yikes.
Snow, who’d been waiting for her to move forward, tilted his head. “Are you okay?”
“My foot’s asleep.”
As the crowd surged toward the exit, she realized she was in danger of getting caught up in the moving stream. Snow put an arm around her waist. “Hold on to me.”
Just in time, because they were going whether they were ready or not. She snaked her arm around his lean hips and forced herself to move, leaning most of her weight on him and hoping her foot was landing flat. “Sorry. It has to be the way I was sitting. It’ll wake up in a minute.”
And it did. Seconds later, those familiar waves of prickles came every time she took a step. She groaned aloud in frustration.
He smiled down at her. “I take it it’s waking up.”
“Ugh. How can you tell?”
They somehow made it off the boat and Snow led her to a nearby bench. “Sit down for a second.”
She did as he asked. “Thanks. Kind of embarrassing that I didn’t notice it while I was sitting.”
“It happens.”
The sun was starting to go down and as Kirsten looked at the skyline, which had streaks of red appearing over the tops of the buildings, her foot was soon forgotten. “It’s so beautiful. Sometimes life gets so busy, I forget to enjoy moments like these.”
“Yes. Me, too.”
Something in his voice urged her to look at him. And when she did, there was an emotion in his face that looked familiar. And terrifying.
Those light blue eyes were on her and not on the sky. And in those eyes she thought she saw...
Longing. Desire. Myriad things she’d been pretty sure she’d never see again before she left the country. And things she was positively sure she’d never see in Snow’s face. Was he even capable of feeling those things?
Evidently, because there it was. And he wasn’t trying to look away or brush it off as something else entirely. No. He didn’t care that she’d noticed. Or recognized it for what it was.
Or maybe that was all in her imagination.
“Give me your foot.” He reached his hand down.
Without hesitation, she lifted her leg and let him haul it onto his lap. His nimble fingers tipped off her shoe and set it on the bench next to his hip as her mouth went dry.
Was he going to—?
He palmed her bare arch, kneading the spots where her nerve endings had gone haywire. Except they weren’t anymore. But something stopped her from admitting that fact or telling him that he didn’t need to massage it. Because it felt wonderful. Heavenly, even.
She couldn’t suppress the soft groan that slid out before she could stop it.
“Good?”
“Mmm...yes. I didn’t realize how tired they were.” She gave a nervous laugh when he shifted his touch to the base of her toes. “I’m not going to want to get up, if you keep that up.”
He smiled. “No need to get up just yet. Neither of us are working tonight, so we don’t have to go directly home, unless you’re tired.”
His thumbs were nudging pressure points on the sole of her foot, bewitching her and removing any desire to get up and get moving.
It was luscious. Her ex had never been a touchy-feely person, so there’d been no back massages, no little unexpected touches. Most of their physical connection happened in the bedroom. And for this to occur out in the open... She felt a little bit like an exhibitionist as she leaned her head on the back of the hard bench and gave herself over to his ministrations. Right now she didn’t care who saw. And it wasn’t like they were making out. Or anything else.
“Aren’t your feet tired at all?”
“No.” The one-word answer surprised her enough that she almost pulled away. Except he was now working on the base of her toes, moving the joints this way and that. It wasn’t hurting anything to enjoy his touch. Like she’d thought earlier, she was not here in New York on a permanent basis. So she needed to soak up what she could while she was here. And if that meant a little bit of physical contact between her and the transplant surgeon, so be it. After all, she was a transplant herself. One that would soon be uprooted and planted somewhere else in a short period of time.
Why not just give in to what had been building for most of the day? She’d be lying to herself to say she wasn’t attracted to him. She’d already reacted to his nearness. More than once.
But what about him? The difference between right now and her very first conversation with him was worlds apart. And she was pretty sure he’d been aware of her while they were talking about repairs and transplants.
She swallowed. Only one way to know for sure.
“Snow...” She whispered his name, half-hoping he wouldn’t hear her. But he did. And when his eyes met hers, she saw that she hadn’t been wrong. There was a heat burning in those pupils that surprised her. Ignited her.
His massaging fingers slowed, until they were no longer moving. Everything in their little bubble of space grew still as they stared at each other.
Then he finally lifted her foot from his lap and set it on the ground. She gulped, thinking she’d read him wrong, that he was going to get up and suggest they go back to the car. Then his arm snaked around her waist, just like it had on the boat. When he’d been trying to protect her. Only this time it was not protection she saw on his face.
This moment seemed inevitable, felt like they’d been hurtling toward it ever since they’d stepped foot on that boat.
And Kirsten couldn’t stop it if she wanted to. And, Lord help her, she didn’t want to.
When his fingers threaded in the hair at her nape and he tilted her face up, she was lost in a sea of blue. Her teeth came down on her lip, and his eyes flicked to her mouth. And then his head was descending in slow motion, and her world suddenly tilted on its axis.