The Surgeon's One Night to Forever Page 10

  She’d been tempted. Oh, yes, she had. When faced with the choice of losing him or going with him, she’d hesitated. Each had tried to convince the other their way was the best, Andrew arguing for her to take a year or two off, Liz arguing for him to wait until she was through with her studies.

  Eventually it hadn’t mattered. While she’d been looking into what it would mean to put her school career on hiatus, Andrew had decided he didn’t want her to go.

  “We’ve had some good times, Liz, but you’re not spontaneous enough for me. Sometimes I wonder if you really have feelings for me at all because, if you do, you don’t show it. I think it will be better if I make the trip on my own.”

  It hadn’t been fair, at all, what he’d been saying. She’d tried to be more like him, dropping everything to go out even when she’d known she shouldn’t, staying out later than she should, even occasionally missing a class because Andrew had wanted to ride down to the sea or go to a concert. The difference was she’d wanted to succeed and had known she couldn’t do well if she constantly did those things. So sometimes she’d tell him no, and it had never gone over well, but she’d stuck to her guns. Just as she had with not riding the motorcycle anymore.

  Better to be useful than decorative.

  Don’t allow your father, or any man, to dictate to you.

  Leaning her head back in the taxi, Liz brooded on those words. She still believed in what Nanny Hardy and her great-aunts had said, and honestly felt if it hadn’t been for their wise words, she’d have thrown it all over for Andrew.

  And probably would have died with him during an early snowfall in Germany, when he’d destroyed his bike on a lonely road, too far away for help to get to him in time.

  Her love for Andrew had made her so weak, it was frightening. The irony that his change of heart had been the only thing that had stopped her from throwing everything away she’d fought for hadn’t been lost on her, but hadn’t made it hurt any less.

  For a moment, before she got herself under control, her eyes stung with the tears she’d steadfastly refused to allow to fall for all these years.

  Stupid for it all to be coming back to the surface after all this time, interfering with what should be a good time with a man she already knew was transient in her life, and therefore safe. Better to put it out of her mind, once and for all, and just enjoy the amazing sex and Cort’s company, which was surprisingly easy, and casual enough to not make her want to run.

  He wanted to see New York, and had been right when he’d said she could show it to him in a way most other people couldn’t.

  She could see no harm in that and, if she was being scrupulously honest with herself, she wanted to enjoy him for as long as he stuck around, especially now she was pretty sure he wouldn’t make something out of it that wasn’t there.

  Pulling out her tablet, she started typing in a list of places she’d take him, and things he should do, at least once, while he was there.

  It should be fun.

  Right?

  * * *

  Standing outside the Colombian restaurant and watching Liz’s taxi drive away, Cort was sure it was the last time they would go anywhere together. Her change of attitude after asking him what he liked made him sure he wasn’t interesting enough for her, and not worth bothering about.

  It turned out he was wrong.

  She actually approached him the following day with a list of things to do, and a plan for how and when they’d do them.

  Liz Prudhomme was nothing if not organized.

  Well, except for her locker.

  Looking down at her tablet, where he could see an extensive list, she said, “There are some things we’ll leave for when the weather gets better, like the New York Botanical Garden, Coney Island and Governors Island, but there are so many other things to do, you won’t be bored.”

  And now, as they walked along a sidewalk in the East Village, he had to admit she was right. He’d been anything but bored. They’d become workout buddies when he’d complained about the gym near his house not being open twenty-four hours a day, and she kept him on his toes when they went at the same time. She’d taken him through the Arms and Armor Department at the Metropolitan Museum, to a play Off-Off-Broadway and a musical on Broadway. In between there had been a variety of food, a martial arts tournament, and a number of nights at clubs listening to blues, country, and indie performers.

  The breadth of Liz’s interests and knowledge was amazing.

  Cort looked back at the venue they’d just left, where people still trickled out into the night.

  “What did you say that was we just watched again?”

  “A poetry slam,” she replied, giving him an amused glance. “I’m guessing it’s your first?”

  That made him chuckle. She knew it was, if only from the way he’d sat there with his mouth hanging open. It had been one of the most wonderful things he’d seen.

  “Some of those poets were like listening to the blues being spoken, rather than sung.”

  She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and stared at him in such a strange way he felt self-conscious.

  “I guess that didn’t make any sense,” he said quickly, but she interrupted him with an uplifted hand.

  “On the contrary, that’s the best description I’ve heard in a long time. I’d never have guessed you had the soul of an aesthete.”

  The back of his neck got warm, although he wasn’t sure whether it was with embarrassment or pleasure. All he knew was that he had to laugh it off somehow.

  “Ah, so you thought I was just a Philistine, huh?”

  The corners of her lips twitched, her mouth softening into her version of a smile. When she started walking again, he fell into step beside her once more. “Actually, the Philistines were highly cultured. It’s one of those pieces of misinformation that gets passed down because the victors always get to write the history.”

  They walked for a while more, discussing the poetry slam and their favorite performers, until they came to a well-lit pool hall. Cort turned to her, raising his eyebrows.

  “Pool?”

  She shrugged. “You said you liked to play, so I figured you could teach me. Neither of us work early tomorrow, so we can stay out a little longer.”

  “Sure,” he said, surprised she’d even remembered he’d said it.

  For a Wednesday night there were quite a few people in the club, which also had an arcade and dartboards.

  “Now, if you want to give me a fighting chance of winning, we could play darts,” Liz said.

  “Next time,” Cort said, pulling out money to feed into the pool table. “It feels good to find something you’re not an expert at.”

  Liz snorted, watching as he racked up the balls. When he was finished and selected a couple of cues, he started his instructions, telling her the basics and then showing her the break. A solid ball went into a pocket, and he stopped to explain that, since he’d sunk that one, it was up to him to sink all the other solids, before sinking the eight ball.

  “So when do I play?”

  “If I miss a shot, you’re up.”

  She sighed, as though they’d been there for an hour rather than ten minutes. Realizing she was getting bored, he intentionally missed the next shot.

  “Your turn,” he said. “You need to sink the striped balls.”

  Liz gave the table a skeptical glance. “In any particular order?”

  “Nope,” he replied.

  “Okay,” she said. “This’ll be a short turn, so get ready to play again.”

  She awkwardly tried to set up for a shot, holding the cue short and too far away from her body.

  “Hang on,” he said. “Will you let me help you?”

  “I suppose,” she huffed.

  Chuckling at how much she obviously despised being at a disadvantage, he moved to stand behin
d her, putting his hand between her shoulder blades and gently pushing her lower.

  “Bend over further.”

  “As the bishop said to the actress,” she muttered.

  “What?”

  “Never mind. I’ll explain later.”

  She always came out with little sayings he’d never heard before, mostly, he figured, because of the difference in their experiences and upbringings. He didn’t mind, though, since she was broadening his horizons and giving him a whole new way of looking at things.

  Instead of asking anything more, he leaned over, snuggling up to her bottom. It took all his concentration to help her position her arms, since being that close to her was so arousing.

  His fascination with and attraction to her certainly hadn’t waned. If anything, getting to know her better had made their continued intimate relationship even hotter, wilder.

  And when she wiggled a little, shifting position, he almost groaned aloud.

  Ignoring the erection pushing at the front of his jeans, he said, “Okay, aim for that red-striped ball there. Try to hit it a little to the left of center, so it goes into the side pocket.”

  “Easy for you to say.”

  He backed away, watching as she made a couple of practice feints. At least the hand she had on the felt looked to be in a good position. Most new players had a hard time with that...

  Crack.

  “All right! You sank it. See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

  The look she gave him made him smile, a smile that slowly faded to be replaced with a wide-eyed stare as she ran the table.

  “Why you little...”

  She shrugged, her eyes twinkling, a grin stretching her luscious lips.

  “I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist. My brother taught me to play years ago, and then wouldn’t play with me anymore because I kept beating him.”

  Cort burst out laughing, going over to put some more money in the table so they could play another game, trying to ignore how fast his heart was beating at the sight of her smile.

  “Well, let’s see how you do this time around.”

  He was actually still laughing when they left the pool hall an hour and a half later. He’d won two games, she’d won three, and they’d trash-talked each other the entire time. Even Liz had laughed out loud a couple of times.

  Outside, the early-spring air was cool, but the sky was clear, an almost full moon hanging like a milky lamp above their heads. Cort had been around her long enough to know Liz didn’t go for public displays of affection, didn’t even like holding hands, and it didn’t bother him. Not when he woke up every morning when she’d slept over at his place to find her draped over him, providing more coverage than his comforter.

  But sometimes he needed her to know what she did to him, whether they were out in public or not.

  As they came abreast of a closed shop, he swept her into a hug, and backed her into the darkness afforded by the recessed doorway. Her only reaction was a little gasp, and then he felt her melt against him.

  “You make me crazy,” he whispered into her ear, and was rewarded by her shiver. “I want you, right now.”

  She pressed against him, swiveled her hips in the way she knew made him go nuts. The attraction between them was always simmering just below the surface, waiting to explode into passion at a look, a touch, a whisper.

  “I’ll call for a taxi,” she said, but neither of them made a move to disengage.

  “In a minute,” he said, looking over his shoulder at the almost deserted street. “I just want to...”

  And he kissed her until she was making little noises in the back of her throat, and until he knew if they didn’t get out of there soon, they might be arrested for indecent exposure.

  “Are there any hotels nearby?” He growled it against her neck, pinched her nipple in the way she loved, rocking his leg up into the junction of her thighs.

  Liz gasped, shuddered, and said, “A decent one, about two blocks west.”

  Forcing himself to let her go, he backed out of the doorway, the ache in his groin excruciating. Every time they were together was like the first time for him. Liz could turn him on by simply being.

  “That’ll work,” he said, taking a deep breath. “Race you.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  MAY HAD FINALLY brought the full promise of spring, with balmy weather and, most of the time, not enough rain to make it difficult to enjoy. Today, though, wasn’t one of those days, as a front moved through the northeast, bringing thunderstorms and the occasional bout of hail.

  The hospital renovations were getting closer to completion, and they were on no-intake for emergency and surgical patients as the technicians were moving equipment into the newly arranged departments. Without the usual flood of patients, staff and visitors, those floors of the hospital had a ghost-town feel to them. Even Radiology was on a skeleton crew, with only one room open for use.

  Liz was bored, taking the quiet time between non-emergency patients to catch up on paperwork and do some research she’d been putting off. She felt a little guilty at her secret glee when a young baseball player, whose attempt to slide into third had ended with a broken collarbone, came in for treatment. It really was a slow day when applying a figure eight bandage was as exciting as it got.

  On her way back to the nurses’ station, she saw Cort turn a corner ahead of her and come her way. Despite seeing him almost every day, her heart still did that little leap whenever he came into view, and the sight of his smiling face lifted her mood, no matter how testy she was feeling.

  It really was a good thing he wouldn’t be sticking around for too long. Already she’d been forced to acknowledge how easy it had been to get used to, and enjoy, his company.

  Thank goodness there was no chance of falling for him.

  She was smarter and stronger than that.

  He paused next to her and casually asked, “Gym later?”

  She was working early the next morning, so they didn’t have anything else planned. She replied, “I was hoping it would be nice today so we could go for a run in Central Park, but the gym will have to do.”

  Cort stepped aside as a technician came by, wheeling an EKG monitor in front of him, the bulky machine taking up most of the hallway. The movement brought Cort closer to Liz, and her body reacted to the proximity, the now familiar sensation of arousal making her tingle, on the verge of shivering.

  “Sounds good,” he said. “I’m here for another hour and, for a change, there shouldn’t be anything stopping me from leaving on time. So, say, six?”

  For once they were actually on the same schedule, so it worked. “See you outside at six.”

  “Great.” Cort gave her one of his knee-weakening grins, before heading off toward the elevators, leaving her standing there staring at his broad back as he walked away.

  Tearing her gaze away from him, she looked blankly down at the clipboard in her hand, realizing that for the last couple of months they’d been more together than apart.

  Yes, it really was a great thing that he was planning to move on in a few months. He would be so easy to get attached to.

  Sometimes she thought, to be on the safe side, she should call a halt to whatever it was they had going on between them, yet just the thought of putting a stop to it made a sour spot grow in her stomach. Cort was easy to be around; fun to be with. Plus, he made her toes curl and her eyes cross in bed. She should just keep on enjoying it for as long as she could. On top of everything else, he still treated her as though she was a friend, never pushing for more or complaining if she turned down the opportunity for them to do something together. Giving her the space she needed to live her life.

  It might sometimes feel like it was slipping out of control, but it was also perfect. Why mess with that?

  Stuffing the clipboard under her arm, she rubbed her suddenly damp palms
down the legs of her scrubs.

  Yet she felt so conflicted. Wouldn’t it be better to end the friendship now, rather than wait for the inevitable messy break-up to happen?

  “Dr. Prudhomme?”

  Startled out of her reverie, Liz pushed all the muddled, confusing thoughts from her mind. She’d think about Cort Smith, and how much space he was taking up in her head and life, later.

  “Yes?” The intake nurse was holding the phone to her chest and looked frazzled, which was surprising on such a quiet day. “What is it?”

  “I have a call from an ambulance a block away from here. They’re taking a vehicle accident victim, male, twenty-five, with suspected brain injury, chest and abdominal trauma to Roosevelt, but there’s been a water main break and they’re stuck. The patient’s crashing.”

  It couldn’t happen at a worse time, with the hospital in such disarray, but Liz didn’t hesitate.

  “Tell them to bring him here, and get me a trauma team, stat.”

  “But, Doctor, I was told—”

  “I don’t care what you were told.” Her veins were like ice now, her focus solely on saving the patient. “Tell them I’m waiting for them in the bay, and page the trauma team. Then get a medivac helicopter dispatched. As soon as we stabilize him, we’re going to have to fly him to Roosevelt.” She was already moving, heading to the entrance, the nurse’s raised voice just a buzz of background noise.

  There was one emergency room kept undisturbed for walk-ins and, although they’d all been told in no uncertain terms they weren’t to take any trauma patients, Liz didn’t care. They were the only chance the young man had to survive, and she’d do everything she could to save him. Yet her stress levels went through the roof. This wasn’t business as usual, not by a long shot, and she was aware of the risk she was taking with the patient’s life.

  Perhaps with her career at the hospital she truly loved.

  She was shouting orders as she ran, and grabbed a surgical gown from a handy stack. Cold sweat beaded her skin under her scrubs, and she barely noticed the driving drizzle that hit her face when she crashed through the bay doors. A nurse came up behind her, reached out to tie the gown in place as Liz dragged on a pair of gloves.