The Millionaire and the M.D. Read Free

try only to confirm that the third time is not the charm.
    â€œWeren’t you going home?” Rebecca reminded her.
    â€œRight. 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—”
    â€œHi, Doc.”
    She looked up. Speaking of the devil. Standing there in the doorway was the noble brother in question.
    â€œGabe.” Rebecca struggled to slow her pounding heart and get her breathing under control. “What are you doing here?” she demanded.
    â€œSorry. 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.
    â€œI saw Grace in the parking lot,” he said, his voice like warm chocolate and Southern Comfort. “She let me in.”
    â€œWhy did you come back?”
    â€œI want to know how my sister is.”
    â€œAmy 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?”
    â€œYes. Now I’m asking you.”
    â€œIf there was something she didn’t understand, I’d be happy to explain it again. To her.”
    â€œI’d appreciate it if you’d explain it to me.”
    â€œShe 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.”
    â€œI can’t do that.”
    â€œWhy?” he demanded. “I’m her brother. I’ve got a right to know.”
    â€œNot so much.”
    He blinked. “How’s that?”
    â€œAmy is not in a coma,” Rebecca explained.