If I Can't Have You (If You Come Back To Me #3) Read Free Page B

though. A minor surgery and debridement of the tissue will take care of things completely. On the other hand, we shouldn’t wait, because the health and structure of Brendan’s bone is at risk. I wouldn’t want it to develop into osteomyelitis. He’ll get an intravenous cocktail of antibiotics, but that’s the only postoperative treatment he’ll require besides some physical therapy. We’ll follow him closely afterward, but there’s every reason to believe that a cleanup of the tissue and removal of the foreign body will resolve things.”
    Colleen stared blankly at the light blue shirt he wore beneath his blue lab coat. “The bone hasn’t been damaged permanently?”
    “No,” he replied, his firm tone reassuring her despite her disorientation.
    “I want another opinion.”
    “I thought you might say that.” She glanced up. A shock went through her when she finally took in how close he was to her. He’d combed his hair back, but the long bangs had fallen forward and brushed his cheekbone. A five o’clock shadow darkened his lean jaw. He had a cleft in his chin. She didn’t know how it was possible that his midnight eyes could be as cold and hard as onyx at times, and so warm at others.
    Like now.
    “The only other orthopedic surgeon at Harbor Town Memorial is Marissa Shraeven.” He leaned his head to the side and hitched his chin toward Brendan’s chart, keeping his gaze on her the whole time. Colleen realized he’d tossed the chart on the exam table before he’d reached out to steady her. “I had her review the case. She agrees one hundred percent with my course of treatment.”
    The pressure of his hand increased subtly. She turned out of his hold and took several steps, distancing herself. His nearness was only increasing her unrest.
    “I’d like Dr. Shraeven to operate, then.”
    “Really?” he asked dryly.
    She spun around. “What’s that mean?” He looked so calm that for a split second, she was sure she’d misunderstood the edge of sarcasm in his tone. He reached and retrieved Brendan’s chart.
    “I think you know what it means,” he said mildly, his gaze flickering over the chart.
    “I just don’t think it’s appropriate for you to operate on Brendan.”
    “Are you questioning my ability?” he asked, looking up.
    “No.” She gave an exasperated sigh when he merely quirked up one brow in a challenging gesture.
    “My integrity, then?”
    “I’m not questioning your ability or integrity. I just think that given everything…given our pasts, there has to be a better option.”
    For several seconds they just stared at one another while Colleen listened to her heartbeat drum loudly in her ears.
    “So you’re falling back on the excuse of the crash, is that it?” he finally said.
    “Does it surprise you? My father killed your mother sixteen years ago in a car wreck. I know how you feel about the Kavanaughs. I know how you feel about me,” she finished under her breath.
    “Do you?”
    She hoped her incredulous glance reminded him of it all—the deaths of their parents, his sister’s considerable injuries and facial scarring, the lawsuits brought against Colleen’s father’s estate by the Reyes and Itani families, their silent battle of wills while the two of them worked together at The Family Center…
    “I’m not buying it,” he said.
    “Excuse me?”
    “I’m not buying that you don’t want me to operate on your son because your father killed my mother in a case of reckless homicide.”
    “Oh, really? You can think of a better reason why I wouldn’t want you to operate on Brendan?”
    “I can,” he said quietly, glancing up from the chart. “Sunset Beach, Memorial Day weekend, last summer.”
    His image swam in her vision. She breathed through her nose slowly, trying to calm herself. Her knees went weak. She felt flattened and numb at once.
    She couldn’t believe he’d just mentioned that night so casually. They’d worked together at The Family Center now