Melting The Ice Queen's Heart. Amy Ruttan

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Melting The Ice Queen's Heart - Amy Ruttan Mills & Boon Medical

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wasn’t hard to keep her name straight in his head. The moment he’d met her, his breath had been taken away with those dark brown eyes to match the dark hair in a tidy chignon. She was so put together, feminine, like something out of a magazine, and then she spoke about all the rules and regulations, about everything he was doing wrong, and it shattered his illusion.

      No wonder the staff called her Ice Queen. She was so cold and aloof. There was no warmth about her. It was all business.

      The woman was a brilliant surgeon, he’d noticed the few times they’d worked together, but she was always slapping his wrists for foolish things.

      “It’s not sanitary. Legal is going to talk to you. The hospital could get sued,” Virginia had stated.

      In fact, when he had a moment, he planned to discuss the functionality and the layout out of this emergency department with her and the board.

      It was horrendous.

      When he’d been working in the field, in developing countries, everything he’d needed had been within arm’s reach, and if it hadn’t been then he’d made do with what he’d had and no one had complained. No one had talked about reprimanding him.

      He’d been free to do what he wanted to save lives. It’s why he’d become a trauma surgeon, for God’s sake.

      If he wasn’t needed in San Francisco, if he had any other choice, he’d march into Virginia’s office and hand in his resignation.

      Only Lily and Rose stopped him.

      He was working in this job, this suffocating, regimented environment, because of them. He didn’t blame them; it wasn’t their fault their mother had died. It’s just that Gavin wished with all his heart he was anywhere but here.

      Although he liked being at home with them. He wanted to do right by them. Give them the love and security he’d never had.

      Gavin stopped at the charge desk and set Mr. Jones’s chart on the desk to fill out some more information before he approached the family with news.

      “You know that was the board of directors you traumatized today,” Sadie said from behind the desk.

      Gavin grunted in response.

      What else was new?

      Board of directors. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I suppose Dr. Potter wants to have a little word with me?”

      “Bingo.” Sadie got up and left.

      Gavin cursed under his breath again. “When?” he called after her.

      “Ten minutes ago,” she called out over her shoulder.

      Damn.

      Well, Virginia would have to wait.

      He had to tell Mrs. Jones her husband, who’d sustained severe crush injuries in a car accident, was going to be okay.

      All thanks to his minor indiscretion over the chest tube insertion in front of the board.

      Only he wouldn’t get any thanks. From Mrs. Jones, yes, but from the people who ran this place, no.

      It would be another slap on the wrist. Potter would tell him again how he was skating on thin ice with the board of directors.

      It would take all his strength not to quit. Only he couldn’t.

      No other hospital in San Francisco was hiring or had been interested in him. He didn’t have a flashy CV after working as a field surgeon for Border Free Physicians.

      He didn’t make the covers of medical journals or have some great research to tempt another hospital with.

      All he had were his two hands and his surgical abilities.

      Those two hands had saved a man today, but that wasn’t good enough for the board. The bottom line was the only thing that mattered and it made him furious.

      If it wasn’t for the girls, he’d quit.

      He couldn’t uproot them. He wouldn’t do that to them, he wouldn’t have them suffer the same life he and Casey had endured as army brats, moving from pillar to post, never making friends and having absentee parents who had both been in the service.

      Although he understood his parents now. He respected them for serving their country and doing their duty. He lived by the same code, only he wasn’t going to raise a family living out of a backpack, and because he loved his life and his work he’d never planned on settling down.

      He planned to die doing what he loved. Like his father had done.

      Working until he’d dropped.

      Of course, that had all changed seven months ago when Casey had called him.

      Casey wanted stability for her girls and that’s exactly what Gavin was going to give them.

      Stability.

      He picked up Mr. Jones’s chart and headed towards the waiting room.

      Virginia could wait a few moments more and he’d smooth things over with the board. Mrs. Jones, however, wouldn’t wait a second more.

       CHAPTER TWO

      HE’S GOOD PR for the hospital.

      Virginia felt like she was running out of ways to praise Dr. Gavin Brice to the board of directors. None of them were physicians.

      None of them understood medicine.

      And because none of the board understood medicine she constantly had to explain to them the actions of Dr. Brice; just like she’d done for the past hour.

      Virginia rubbed her temples, trying to will away the nagging headache that gnawed her just behind her eyes.

      It’d been grueling, but she’d managed to smooth things over. By again reminding them of Dr. Brice’s phenomenal survival rate. It was probably that way because of the unorthodox techniques he used.

      Of course, what was the point when the head of the board seemed so keen to shut down the hospital’s emergency department and make Bayview Grace a private hospital? Private meant only for the wealthy.

      And catering only to the wealthy made her sick.

      When she’d first decided to become a doctor she hadn’t just want to help those who could afford it. It was one of the reasons she’d chosen Bayview to do her intern and residency years. Bayview, back then, had had a fantastic pro bono fund and a free clinic.

      The free clinic had been closed two years ago when she’d done her boards. When she’d become chief she’d tried to get it back, but that would have meant dipping into the pro bono money and that money had been needed.

      Mr. Schultz had feigned regret, but

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