Tempted By The Brooding Surgeon. Karin Baine
and if he had been, Gabriel would still be here, joking with Daniel, pushing the boundaries with their parents and grandparents, living his life at one hundred percent velocity like he always had until the day he’d died.
The loss had torn Daniel up. Had left a painful, gaping hole in his family, and he had no desire to ever forget how that felt.
Remembering his brother gave him the strength and resolution to be the kind of surgeon he had to be. To insist that everyone be on top of their game for every single patient. Every single time. He and his team owed it to his patients, and to the people who loved them, to give every one of them the best possible care available, and that included the nursing staff and the anesthesiologist.
The patient Dr. Annabelle Richards had nearly killed five years ago during surgery had suffered from exactly the same heart condition as Gabriel. No way had he wanted her to work as the anesthesiologist on his team.
And yet here she was. So what was he going to do about it? Mission hospital or not, he owed every single patient the best surgical outcome he could obtain with the tools that he had at hand. Dr. Annabelle Richards would not be the person who lowered that standard.
Daniel yanked down his surgical mask, gave their patient one more careful check over, asked him if he felt okay, and reassured him that he’d be visiting with him in Recovery when he felt better. Stripping off his gloves, he moved out of the OR to see the next patient coming in. He checked the diagnostic work and the seriousness of the six-month-old’s situation. Stuck his head into the small, spartan waiting room crammed with patients before talking with the local woman juggling the surgery schedule to see how many children they could see that day.
Whoever the anesthesiologist was on each mission, they often accompanied him on these quick rounds. But Dr. Richards had chosen to stay back in the OR, probably to tinker with her all-important monitor.
Having her work as anesthesiologist for the next few days’ surgeries was the only option to ensure that everyone on the docket got taken care of. But as soon as he had a moment free? He’d be looking for a replacement for Annabelle Richards.
DAWN CREPT MISTILY across the mountains as Daniel stepped outside the hotel where the medical team was staying, sipping hot coffee obtained from the large urn in the foyer. He savored the taste of it on his tongue, letting the flavor of the locally grown arabica linger there, along with memories of his childhood. He and his brother had always loved the stuff, and he smiled, remembering sending Gabriel to sneak into the kitchen in the morning to pour both of them a cup, heaping them with cream and sugar.
Daniel had been more of a rule follower than his twin, but when it had been to his benefit, he’d been happy to take advantage of his brother’s mischievous, more daring nature. Sometimes that had involved sports and adventures, sometimes it had been stealing desserts or coffee or other things they weren’t supposed to have, straight from under their nanny’s or parents’ noses.
He took another swig of the hot brew. Straight black was the way he liked it now, giving him a much-needed caffeine jolt after having worked late into the night before getting busy making phone calls to acquaintances at various hospitals who might know of an accomplished anesthesiologist who’d be available and willing to work at the mission hospital for the next two weeks.
With any luck one of the people recommended would be willing to take over Annabelle Richards’s small shoes. He knew she’d be furious and, to his complete surprise, a niggle of discomfort over his phone calls briefly poked at him, knowing she’d given her vacation time to this trek and gone through a lot of effort to get here against the odds. There was also the undeniable fact that throughout yesterday’s surgeries she’d been utterly competent and professional.
But that didn’t mean that she always would be. He had no idea if she’d grown as a doctor, and he reminded himself, again, that it was critical to have only the best anesthesiologist available for the kinds of complicated heart surgeries they performed here.
But maybe there was some compromise to be found. Maybe he should suggest she work in a different mission while she was in Peru, rather than sending her back to the United States when he found a replacement. There were several clinics in poor parts of the country that were only occasionally open to patients. Clinics that did far less complicated surgeries than he’d be doing. Surgeries that didn’t take six or eight hours to accomplish, and weren’t life-threatening. She could handle those kinds of things, he knew. And any local doctor without much in the way of staff would welcome her help.
It was a good plan. And maybe part of the reason it sounded good to him was because he couldn’t deny that, despite having very valid reasons, seeing anger and maybe hurt in those blue eyes that could quickly turn from warm and friendly to icy disdain in a single blink wasn’t something he looked forward to. Maybe knowing another clinic needed her would make her happy to go there instead.
Impatient with himself and the odd mental discomfort he felt, Daniel looked out towards the mountains in the distance, pondering how he could get Dr. Richards moved to another clinic, when a movement nearby caught his attention. As though he’d conjured her from the shadowy mist, Annabelle came out of the hotel doors, her pale hair shimmering through the mist much the way the moon was, still hanging low in the slowly lightening sky.
Surprised that she’d be up so early after her botched travels and long work day, he took in the light pink robe she wore, cinched close at the waist and emphasizing her large breasts and the roundness of her hips. Her legs, bare and shapely, seemed longer than when she wore scrubs. Both hands were wrapped around a steaming cup of coffee, and the way she breathed in the scent, closed her eyes as she took a sip, and tipped her head back as it slid down her throat, made his heart give a little kick. A small smile tipped her soft-looking lips. His entire body reacted to the utter sensuous pleasure on the woman’s face.
This was how she’d look making love. Pleasured, satisfied, wanting more. And he wanted to give it to her. Wanted to walk over, kiss her and open up that robe to slide his hands inside to feel her soft skin, caress all those curves.
Damn. Where had all that come from? Somehow, he forced himself to look away and take a big gulp of his own coffee. His chest burned, but he wasn’t sure it was from the drink. Thinking of her in that way was all kinds of wrong when they were working together, even if it ended up being for only a short time.
Daniel didn’t know whether to try to skulk deeper into the shadows until she went back inside or make some noise to let her know he was out here. He decided the first was cowardly and weak, and since he tried to never be either of those things, he took a few steps toward her.
“I see you need coffee to get going in the morning as much as I do.”
She swung to stare at him, surprise touching her face before it settled into a frown. The pleasure replaced by annoyance. “I like coffee, but I don’t need it to get going.”
“Energetic the second you leap from bed? Lucky you.”
“Not exactly, but I do other things to wake myself up.”
“Now you’ve intrigued me.” Which was an understatement, as several completely inappropriate thoughts lunged into his head. “What things?”
“I’m always amazed at how beautiful it is up here,” she said, ignoring his question to look out over the vista in front of them. “You’re from Peru originally, aren’t you? How did you end up in Philadelphia?”
He let his gaze follow hers to the mountains and the golden rays illuminating their peaks. “This was home for us until I was ten years old. Still is a part of me, I guess. We lived in a more urban area, which was, and is, beautiful in its own way. But the government became corrupt, and rival terror groups wreaked havoc on the entire country. The political unrest and economic mess finally forced my parents to move to the US, taking some of the family business interests with them.”
“I’d heard about the political troubles, but it’s