The Millionaire and the M.D. Read online

  “It’s not every brother who would make sure his pregnant sister got medical care.” Grace smiled. “And he’s not hard on the eyes.”

  “You think so? I didn’t notice,” she lied.

  “Oh, please. How could you not? He reminds me of someone.” Grace snapped her fingers. “I know. The actor who was in that movie How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days.”

  Rebecca didn’t need ten days to lose a guy. For her it was ten seconds, the time it took to tell her fiancé about the assault. Maybe not quite that fast, but everything had changed afterward until finally he dumped her. And that’s how she learned that there was more than one way to violate a person’s trust.

  “I didn’t see that movie. In fact, I can’t remember the last time I saw any movie,” Rebecca admitted.

  “You need to get out more.” Grace tsked sympathetically. “There’s more to life than work.”

  This was an ongoing debate and a continuing waste of breath. Rebecca was perfectly happy, and it did no good to tell her friend that a personal life was highly overrated. She loved being a doctor and believed herself lucky that her career was deeply fulfilling. If she was a little lonely, well, it was better than giving trust another try only to confirm that the third time is not the charm.

  “Weren’t you going home?” Rebecca reminded her.

  “Right. See you tomorrow.” Grace waved, then was gone.

  Rebecca picked up Amy’s chart again and thought about the teenager. Definitely mixed up, but there was something about her. The flinch, the shame, the fear in her eyes when they’d talked about the baby’s father. Rebecca had felt fear and shame once and wondered if she and her patient shared the same soul-shattering secret.

  Or was she imagining victims where none existed? God, she was tired. She wished she could blame it on an all-nighter at the hospital, but she’d simply had a bad dream. The first in a long time. It was the noises in her new condo. That was normal when one moved to a different place. Right?

  And when she could identify all the things that went bump in the night, she wouldn’t wake up gasping for air because she was dreaming that same terrifying dream, reliving the nightmare of what happened to her. As soon as she felt comfortable and secure, the past would go back deep inside and stay buried where it belonged. And she would stop assigning a similar experience to a patient who’d probably just had unprotected sex with her boyfriend.

  A shadow in the doorway startled her again. This time she ignored it. Without looking up she said, “I thought you went home, Grace—”

  “Hi, Doc.”

  She looked up. Speaking of the devil. Standing there in the doorway was the noble brother in question.

  “Gabe.” Rebecca struggled to slow her pounding heart and get her breathing under control. “What are you doing here?” she demanded.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He grinned and turned on the charm Grace had seen.

  Rebecca felt a little shimmy in her stomach that was as annoying as it was surprising. She’d felt it earlier, too, in the exam room, a feminine reaction to his masculine appeal, but the doctor part had taken over and concentrated on her patient.

  This time she was one-on-one with him. He had startled her, but that was all. She wasn’t afraid. She couldn’t be afraid of a man who’d brought his runaway teenage sister to a prenatal exam any more than she could help noticing how blue his eyes were and that his dark-blond hair could use a trim. Any woman with a pulse would find it impossible to ignore his broad shoulders, wide chest and flat abdomen in the white dress shirt tucked into a pair of well-cut slacks that showed off his muscular legs and great butt.

  “I saw Grace in the parking lot,” he said, his voice like warm chocolate and Southern Comfort. “She let me in.”

  “Why did you come back?”

  “I want to know how my sister is.”

  “Amy and I discussed everything.” Rebecca had done all the talking so “discuss” was stretching it. But she’d given the teen a lot of information. She took off her glasses and tossed them on the stack of charts. “Did you ask her how she is?”

  “Yes. Now I’m asking you.”

  “If there was something she didn’t understand, I’d be happy to explain it again. To her.”

  “I’d appreciate it if you’d explain it to me.”

  “She wouldn’t tell you.”

  It wasn’t a question. If he knew, he wouldn’t be here, which would certainly make her life easier. But she was puzzled. Amy had gone to him for help and now was holding back. Why?

  He leaned a shoulder against the doorjamb as he shrugged. “You know how teenagers are. A lot of it went over her head. She couldn’t remember. So just give me the facts.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “Why?” he demanded. “I’m her brother. I’ve got a right to know.”

  “Not so much.”

  He blinked. “How’s that?”

  “Amy is not in a coma,” Rebecca explained. “She’s able to give consent and she’s choosing to make her own decisions about her medical treatment.”

  “I’m not asking to make decisions.”

  “Right.” She suspected he wanted to be in control, otherwise he wouldn’t have come back for information. If Amy wasn’t inclined to share it, why had she gone to him in the first place?

  “Don’t look now but your skepticism is showing, Doc. I just want to know what you told her.”

  “There are laws protecting a patient’s right to privacy. If Amy wants you to know, she’ll tell you.”

  “She won’t say anything.”

  Then neither would Rebecca. She folded her hands on the mess of paperwork in front of her and stared at the baffled expression on Gabe’s face. For a man who liked to be in control it wasn’t a comfortable place to be. And why that tugged at her she couldn’t say.

  When the silence stretched out, determination replaced bafflement. “If possible, Amy’s even quieter after seeing you earlier. I’d like to know whether or not I should be concerned.”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “It could be,” he argued. “All you have to do is tell me she’s fine. Or how about this. I’ll say it and you just nod. One for yes, two for no.”

  “I can only say that this is a discussion you need to have with Amy.”

  “Who’s going to know if you tell me anything? It’s not like I’m going to rat you out. For that matter, I wouldn’t even know who to tell.”

  “I’m sorry, Gabe.” It occurred to her that Grace might have a point. He was annoyed, yes, but if he didn’t give a damn he wouldn’t be here after hours badgering her for information. Chalk one up for him. “Clearly you care about your sister, but my professional obligation is to my patient. I’m Amy’s doctor.”

  “I’m Amy’s brother. The way I see it that close personal relationship trumps your professional obligation.”

  What the hell did he know about her professional obligations? She sat up straighter. “What do you do for a living?”

  “I’m a builder. T&O Enterprises is one of the fastest growing companies in the country.”

  “And aren’t there rules you have to follow? Standards you have to maintain in order for the integrity of whatever you build to pass inspection? Obtain a certificate of occupancy?”

  “Yes.”

  “And if you don’t follow the rules, there are people you have to answer to. Isn’t that right, Gabe?”

  “You know it is, Rebecca. Do you mind if I call you Rebecca?” he asked, turning on the charm.

  “Yes, I do mind.” But she minded more that her heart had sped up again and it wasn’t because he’d startled her. This so wasn’t a good time to find out her high IQ was no match for his charm. “So you can understand that doctors have rules, too.”

  He moved out of the doorway and farther into the office, stopping in front of her. She swallowed the familiar taste of fear. It was automatic; it was habit. She owned this problem. He’d done nothing threatening and she wasn’t
afraid of him.

  “My sister left home without a word to anyone and when things got rough she showed up on my doorstep. In your opinion, is that sound judgment?”

  Of course it wasn’t. But Amy’s judgment might have been impacted by trauma, and Rebecca had no intention of sharing those suspicions. “It doesn’t matter what you or I think. In the eyes of the law, she’s old enough to call the shots.”

  “She’s eighteen. Just a kid herself.”

  “Even if you were her parent, I couldn’t give you her medical information without her permission.”

  “That’s nuts,” he said emphatically.

  She shrugged. “That’s the way it is.”

  He stared her down for several moments, then ran his fingers through his hair, his frustration obvious. “Can you at least tell me she’s fine? That’s not actual information. It’s more in the nature of how’s the weather. How about those Dallas Cowboys. Or have a nice day. Just tell me she’s okay.”

  “As I said before, it’s not that simple.” Rebecca couldn’t tell him anything without divulging her medical information.

  “What’s wrong, Doc?”

  “I never said there was anything wrong.”

  “Your face does. You’re worried about something.”

  Was she that easy to read? Or was he just good at it? Or was he simply fishing for information? She hoped not—on all counts. Because she really didn’t want him questioning whether or not she was nervous. Her jumpiness wasn’t about the present, it was about the past. And that’s where she wanted to leave it.

  “I gave Amy all the facts she needs for now.”

  Facts like her blood pressure was high and a cause for concern. The minuscule amount of information she’d been able to get out of the teen convinced her that when she’d eaten at all, her diet had consisted primarily of fast food, which meant too much salt and fat and not enough nutrition. Teen diets were notoriously bad, which increased the number of high-risk pregnancies. And a teen who’d had no prenatal care was at even higher risk. None of which she could discuss with Gabe. He seemed the type who would push the advantage if she gave an inch.

  She stood. “I’ve said all I can. We have nothing more to talk about.”

  “Actually, we do.”

  “I can’t imagine what.” Rebecca stared up at him, way up. He was tall and muscular and very good-looking. A normal woman might flirt, but she wasn’t normal.

  “Doc, I need your help.”

  “With what?”

  His blue eyes snapped with intensity, and his big body practically hummed with a nervous, almost desperate energy. “Help me convince Amy to go back to Texas.”

  She hadn’t expected that. “I don’t understand. If you planned to send her back, why did you bother bringing her to see me?”

  “I knew she hadn’t seen a doctor and that prenatal care is important.”

  All Rebecca could focus on was the fact that this guy’s teenage sister was “in trouble” and troubled, so much so that she’d run away from home. He wanted to send her back and she couldn’t believe that he had the nerve to ask for her help. Grace might be fooled into thinking Gabe was a noble human being, but Rebecca knew different. She’d learned to spot a jerk a mile away. Unfortunately, this jerk was a lot closer than that.

  After what happened to her Rebecca had known first fear, then anger. She was clear on the difference. When she pointed to the door and saw that her hand was shaking, she knew without a doubt it was outrage.

  “If you can’t be part of the solution, then you should take yourself out of the equation. My office hours are over, Mr. Thorne. Please leave.”

  Chapter Two

  “You have to understand, Doc—”

  “Oh, I think I get it.” She stared at him for several moments. “I’m pretty smart, Gabe.” Pointing to her framed diplomas on the wall, she said, “I didn’t buy those at the dollar store.”

  “This isn’t about you.”

  “Or you either. It’s about Amy. She’s young and scared. And she needs her family.”

  “You’ll get no argument from me. But it’s her father she needs.”

  “Apparently she doesn’t agree, if actions are anything to go by. She chose you.”

  “She’s wrong. Like you said, she’s young and scared. And not making good decisions. I’m asking you to give me a hand in convincing her to go home where she belongs.”

  If actions were anything to go by, he couldn’t be bothered with his sister. Rebecca put her glasses back on and sat up straighter as she met his gaze. “If that’s why you brought Amy to me, you’ve made a big mistake. I won’t pressure her to do something she doesn’t want to do simply because it would be more comfortable and convenient for you.”

  His eyes narrowed. “This wouldn’t be about losing a patient and the revenue, would it? I mean, you’re running a business—”

  “How dare you.” She stood up and glared at him. “I would never put business above the welfare of a patient. Especially the welfare of a teenage girl who’s at risk—”

  “Risk?” He tensed and was instantly alert. “What risk?”

  “No, you don’t.” She’d let him sucker her temper into a twist and slipped up. It was a mistake she wouldn’t make again. “I’ll supervise Amy’s pregnancy until her baby is born or she fires me, whichever comes first, regardless of her ability to pay. Is that clear?”

  “Perfectly. And send me the bills.”

  “Fine. Then I think we understand each other. And we’re finished.”

  “For now.” The man had the audacity to grin but it didn’t chase the anger from his eyes. “See you around, Doc.”

  “Not if I see you first,” she mumbled.

  And she wouldn’t hold her breath about seeing him at all.

  There was no question that he was good-looking, and she hated that she noticed, but Rebecca knew her judgment in men was seriously flawed, and Gabe was all the worst parts of mistake number two. If that was anything to go by, it was pretty unlikely that she’d see him around.

  And yet she couldn’t help wondering why he’d pushed so hard for Amy’s medical information. Why would he bother to get her examined when he planned to pack her off to Texas? Probably to make sure she was healthy enough for the trip.

  He’d shown his true colors, and any minute now she would stop thinking about Gabe Thorne because it was a waste of time. Thanks to men just like him, she’d already lost too much that she could never get back. Smart women learned from their mistakes, and she was nothing if not smart.

  Rebecca walked briskly along the sidewalk under the portico and toward Mercy Medical’s automatic front door. There was a whooshing sound as it opened into the two-story rotunda with marble floor and information disk on the right, gift shop on the left. Every time she entered this hospital, the echo of hushed voices and hurrying footsteps surrounded her along with a feeling of reverence. The medical center endeavored to treat the whole patient with a combination of technology and compassion that healed mind, body and spirit.

  When Rebecca looked around at the quiet beauty of the yellow rose painting on the wall and the words inscribed over the archway—Dignity, Collaboration, Justice, Stewardship, Excellence—her own soul sighed contentedly. Within these walls, she felt confident, fulfilled, at peace.

  She stopped at the information desk and smiled at the older woman with glasses. “Hi, Sister Mary.”

  “Dr. Hamilton. How wonderful to see you. You’re here for your workshop. Do you also have patients to see?”

  The hospital board of directors had talked her into doing ongoing educational workshops to educate the public about the prevention and risks of teenage pregnancy. This was her third time and the first two had had dismal turnouts. Sister Mary was in charge of volunteers and felt guilty that Rebecca’s time was wasted unless she also had another reason for being here.

  Rebecca nodded. “Yes, I have a couple patients to look in on while I’m here.”

  “Good.” The nun glanced
down at a paper in front of her. “You’re in the McDonald conference room again.”

  Rebecca nodded. “If anyone shows up, promise me they won’t go down the street for a Happy Meal.”

  “I’m terribly sorry about that misunderstanding, dear. The volunteer was new. We’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

  “Assuming anyone actually shows up.”

  “Someone already has. I made sure he knew the McDonald conference room was not a fast-food establishment.”

  “Thanks, Sister.”

  Rebecca’s curiosity spiked as she walked away from the desk. He? Her goal was to reach teenage girls and prevent situations like Amy Thorne’s. But it takes two to tango as the saying went and just because boys were anatomically incapable of carrying a baby didn’t mean they shouldn’t understand their responsibilities in preventing conception. Unfortunately, she’d found that an abundance of testosterone limited a boy’s ability to think with his head, and they didn’t normally seek out information voluntarily. So a he at her workshop was a major surprise.

  She pulled open the heavy conference room door and walked past the chairs in the reception area. The McDonald conference room was divided into two smaller areas that could be combined into one large room if turnout warranted. Based on past results, she had no illusions it would be warranted for her.

  When she rounded the corner into the tiny room and saw who her “he” was, she wanted to walk out again.

  “Gabe,” she said, hoping he’d chalk up her breathless tone to hurrying into the room. It was, in fact, on account of her heart beating too fast, something quickly becoming a habit when she saw him.

  He was resting a hip against one of the long tables in front of a dry erase board. “Rebecca.”

  “How nice to see you again. It seems like only yesterday.”

  One corner of his mouth quirked up. “It was yesterday.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I work here.”

  She wasn’t born yesterday. “Really? Patient facilitator? As in facilitate them right back to Texas?”

  “You have quite the sarcastic streak. Did they teach you that in medical school?” he asked.