Connie Cox – Return of the Rebel Surgeon (страница 7)

He took a sip of his sweet tea, trying to rinse the bitterness from his attitude.

He had deliberately got drunk on Bella’s wedding day—for the first and only time in his life. For his own sanity as much as for the sake of his grades, he’d exerted great willpower and erased each call, destroyed each letter, before reliving the betrayal over and over again.

Instead, he’d thrown himself into his studies, the one thing he could always count on in his life to distract him from his grief.

Cole gathered up the remains of his meal and threw it in the trash.

Nothing about Bella should matter to him. How could he make himself stop wanting her? Why, after fifteen years, was he still asking himself that question? It was about time he found an answer.

Cole stretched, trying to stop the dull throbbing in his left shoulder that traveled down his arm to his fingertips—the results of tensing during surgery.

“Long surgeries will cramp you up, won’t they?”

“Yes, they will. Occupational hazard.” Only the surgery hadn’t taken that long, a mere hour and a half compared to the five and six hours of reconstructive surgery Cole was used to performing. And he’d been a consultant while Dr. Wong had done most of the work.

He flexed his numb fingers.

Strained shoulder muscles took a while to right themselves. He’d give it a few more weeks before he had it checked out. Of course, that was what he’d told himself a few weeks ago. Maybe he should schedule a therapeutic massage soon.

Some pain-management specialists studied massage, didn’t they? He reined in that runaway thought. It didn’t really matter what Bella had studied, did it?

The natural high Cole felt after that morning’s successful surgery was starting to fade, replaced by a need he wanted to deny.

Bella.

After only a few short days he had become addicted to that jolt of energy the sight of her gave him.

Neither of them fit with his old memories of a more pubescent, hormonal time. She had changed even more than he had. Why did it matter to him? How could he make it stop mattering?

CHAPTER THREE

AFTER a long, leisurely swim and a nice parboil in the whirlpool, Cole checked his messages before making rounds.

His office manager had made sure his tuxedo was delivered to his hotel room for that night’s special games reception.

He could tell himself he was staying to firm up the partnership, but in reality today’s observance of Dr. Wong in surgery had put all his fears to rest. The lawyers could now go forward without further input from him.

Bella. His own personal temptress. But he was no longer that insecure boy hiding behind bravado. That was what he had to prove to himself. That was why he’d changed his plans. That was why he’d stayed.

He donned his best bedside manner and pushed open the door.

Without a greeting, his patient, Heath Braden, confronted him. “Tell me the truth, Doc. What are my chances of regaining full use of my hand?”

Heath no longer had the grip of a fireman.

Cole made himself look into Heath’s eyes. “Slim. You will be able to do tasks that don’t require as much strength or dexterity as you’ve had in the past, but passing the assessment tests to get back to active duty may not be possible.”

Cole inwardly winced at the fear crossing the young man’s face. He’d seen it time after time—would his loved ones still love him if he wasn’t the man he used to be? Sadly, too often the answer was no, but Heath wasn’t a highly paid athlete with a high-maintenance spouse.

Heath’s wife leaned down to kiss her husband’s forehead. “I don’t love you for your hand. I love you for your heart.”

The emotion between the two made Cole feel superfluous.

He excused himself and headed to the nurses’ station.

Heath’s nurse gave him a rundown of the report. “Mr. Braden’s condition could be easier on him but he doesn’t want to take his pain meds, Dr. Lassiter. He says he doesn’t want his son to see him all drugged up. He wants to be able to focus enough to enjoy his son’s visits.”

Cole understood completely. “The pain meds are for his comfort. Taking them won’t affect the surgery or his recovery as long as he keeps taking the anti-inflammatories. But he will be in quite a bit of pain when he starts his physical therapy rehab. Do we have anyone who could do pain-management counseling with him?”

The nurse nodded. “We have a great therapist on staff who works wonders with biofeedback and hypnotherapy. Her schedule is always booked with a waiting list, though.”

Having enough personnel to go around was always an issue, especially in a teaching-charity hospital like this one.

“Surely she could be convinced to add one more patient to her list. Give me her name and number and I’ll have my staff set up an appointment for Mr. Braden.”

“I’m glad to hear you’re open to cognitive behavior therapy, Dr. Lassiter,” the nurse said as she scrolled through the contact list. “Not everyone is willing to give CBT a chance. But we’ve seen great results as long as the patient trusts and believes in the therapy.”

“I’m open to whatever works.”

The nurse handed him Bella’s contact information on a slip of paper. If Cole had been a fanciful man, he might believe fate was playing tricks on him to throw Bella his way. But it all added up. The hospital sponsored the games and Bella had volunteered, just as he had, to be part of that sponsorship.

Of course, with Adrian, she had a vested interest in the special games. So it was rational, almost inevitable, they would end up in the same medical circles.

The odds of their ending up in the same circle all those years ago had been much higher. And he’d been on the outside perimeter while Bella had been at the center of it all.

He made a quick call to his office manager, giving her Bella’s contact information.

“Monday morning. Make it happen,” he instructed his office manager.

“Yes, Dr. Lassiter. I will.”

He surrounded himself with competent staff, so he could confidently put this problem out of his mind and focus on what was important. But, then, he’d been trying to put Bella Allante out of his mind for the last fifteen years and hadn’t succeeded yet.

As Cole tucked the note in his pocket and turned away, a sharp pain arced through his neck and down his arm. He could use some pain management himself. Could Bella help him work through his pain?

There had to be a high level of trust between a medical professional and a patient, especially with the kind of work Bella did. No, with what they had between them, Bella couldn’t help him. Not if he needed to trust her first.

Isabella’s hands ached from gripping the steering wheel of her sensible fourteen-year-old car too tightly. Consciously, she relaxed, head to toe. Stress would only eat up the little energy she had left after such a long week.

Pulling into the hotel’s parking lot, Isabella pasted on her social smile and summoned up her last smidgeon of energy, hoping it would be enough to get her through the special games recognition and fundraising event.

If she could find reserves for just a few more hours, she could go home and collapse for the rest of the evening. She might even be tired enough to sleep through her worries about Cole and the paternity discussion they needed to have. Or did they, since he had now gone back to New York, where he belonged?

Starting now, she would forget about this week and go back to providing a safe and predictable world for her son. If life was too predictable for her at times, that was one of the sacrifices of motherhood she willingly accepted for her son’s well-being.

When she’d left Adrian in David’s care, he had been fingering his scarf while hugging the framed photo of Cole that usually sat on his bedside nightstand, all the while keeping a steady pace in the gliding rocker next to her bed. His favorite video played so quietly on the television she could barely hear it. His plastic doctor action figure lay next to the television control within easy reach.

She’d been worried about overstimulation from the active weekend so different from their normal routine. And that had just been from participating in the local games. With Cole on the scene, she would have expected Adrian’s reactions to be all over the board.

Instead, Adrian was taking the appearance of his father in his stride while she was struggling to contain her own anxieties.

Take a step back, Bella, she told herself.

She might be borrowing trouble. Cole might have made his once-in-a-lifetime appearance and now be gone for ever and her life could get back to the way she’d organized it.

Illogically, on top of the anger, confusion and relief, that idea made her very sad.

She had explained Cole’s absence to Adrian by telling him Daddy had to work. It was the total truth, and Adrian had understood. Tomorrow, when both she and Adrian were better rested, she would break the news that Cole had gone back to New York.

She wasn’t looking forward to tomorrow.

As she had so often since Adrian’s birth, she vowed to live one moment at a time and let the future work itself out—but it was such a hard thing to do for a planner like her.