The Millionaire And The M.D.. Teresa Southwick
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And he didn’t volunteer an explanation about his own attitude, which unfortunately made Rebecca acutely curious, on a strictly personal level. The difference was he was in perfect health and not facing a life crisis like Amy. Maybe it was time to say out loud what she suspected.
“Is it possible, Gabe, that this pregnancy is a result of your sister being sexually assaulted?”
If she’d punched him in the stomach, he couldn’t have looked more stunned. “No.” He shook his head. “Absolutely not.”
Two for two in the Thorne family denial department. Rebecca needed him to get it, but no way would she tell him her own experience was the source of her gut feeling. When she’d talked to Amy about the baby growing inside her, the defensive expression was replaced by a bruised look and she’d bet it was all about trust betrayed in the most intimate way. Rebecca knew how that felt. She just didn’t know how it would feel to have a part of the assaulter growing inside her.
“Look, Gabe, I know you think I’m young and inexperienced, but I’ve handled a lot of pregnancies. They don’t give you a license to practice medicine unless you have the training. I’ve seen a lot of reactions—from the unplanned pregnancy in a committed relationship to the infertile woman heartbroken when she learns that she will never feel a baby move inside her. In my experience, even the mother who didn’t plan to get pregnant usually gets excited and is emotionally engaged when she sees her baby for the first time. Amy wouldn’t even look. A child conceived through an act of violence would explain why.”
He shook his head again. “That’s just not possible.”
“No?”
He loosened his tie with a quick and irritated jerk of his hand. “It’s just…Amy…In your practice…Have you seen assault victims?”
Every time she looked in the mirror. Rebecca’s chest tightened, but this wasn’t about her.
She let out a long breath. “Yes. Unfortunately. Before, when I suggested you get in touch with your feminine side, I know you can’t. Not really. And especially with something like this—Men don’t understand what it’s like to feel powerless. But it would explain a lot about Amy’s apathy.”
“If she’d been—If someone had…raped her…she would have—” Anger snapped in his eyes, making them a bottomless blue. “I’d like to say that she would have said something to me. But—”
“What?”
“But the truth is we’ve never been close.”
“Maybe this is an opportunity to change that.”
“The age difference,” he went on. “And…other things.”
Rebecca couldn’t afford to care what those other things were, although she was curious. And, okay, she did care. But he wasn’t eighteen and pregnant. Whatever he was dealing with would have to wait. The clock was ticking for Amy and she needed him.
“It’s possible that this situation could bring the two of you closer.”
For a split second amusement flashed through his eyes. “Has anyone ever told you that sometimes people just want to brood and be ticked off? They don’t want to see the silver lining in any situation.”
“I understand.” She leaned a hip against the exam table.
He did the same and half sat, just inches from her. “I doubt it. You’re Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm.”
Not so much, she wanted to say. But his words opened up a warm fuzzy place inside her—a place where she wanted to be a normal woman attracted to a very good-looking man. But…There was always a “but.” And she’d learned there always would be. Her trust had been betrayed twice—first in body, then in spirit. There wouldn’t be a third time.
She opened her mouth to say something, and Gabe silenced her with his index finer. In spite of her cold thoughts the touch made her warm again, but it was a heat that started in her center and radiated outward. She’d never experienced warm-and-fuzzy warm followed by wow-he-makes-me-hot warm. It was a one/two punch and she so didn’t need it.
“I’m not Shirley Temple. I’m not an empty-headed optimist. I’m a doctor and my name happens to be Rebecca.”
“So now it’s okay for me to call you Rebecca?”
It had been okay since he barged into her office demanding that his sister get an appointment. The man might want his sister to go home, but he wasn’t going to leave her out in the cold.
She lifted one shoulder. “You strike me as a man who does what he wants regardless of permission. Not a judgment, just an observation and none of my business. But Amy is. Like it or not your sister is having a baby. Make the best of a bad situation. It could be an opportunity for the two of you to get closer.”
Rebecca reached for the black-and-white photos she’d printed of Amy’s baby and picked out the best one. She held it out to him. Gabe took it automatically, but when he looked down, all the teasing vanished from his expression. In its place was a bleak look that startled her. He looked as if he’d seen a ghost, and she couldn’t stop the question.
“Gabe? What is it?” She wanted to hug him. The reaction was instinctive and unnerving.
He set the pictures on the exam table as if they’d burned his fingers. Bleak blue eyes looked into hers, and his mouth pulled tight. Paleness crept into his cheeks despite the healthy tan. “I have to go. Amy—”
Then he walked out as abruptly as his sister. Part of her wanted to go after him and demand to know why he’d looked like that. But the part of her in charge of self-preservation held back. She had the horrible feeling that something deeply and tragically emotional had put that expression on his face and whatever it was had everything to do with why he wanted no part of his sister’s pregnancy. She’d stopped herself from following him because if he wasn’t the unfeeling bastard Rebecca believed, she could be in a lot of trouble.
She’d been shattered twice and put herself back together. She didn’t want to find out whether or not she had the emotional fortitude to do it a third time.
In the hospital cafeteria, Rebecca bypassed the steam table with the day’s specials and the refrigerated ready-made sandwiches in favor of the salad bar. Then she grabbed a cup and filled it with ice and diet soda. After picking up her tray, she carried it around the corner and kept walking when the cashier waved her on. Complimentary meals were a perk, however dubious, of doctors on staff at Mercy Medical.
Rebecca glanced around the sparsely filled room where people in civilian clothes mixed with employees dressed in different-colored shapeless scrubs similar to her own royal-blue ones. It was nearly seven-thirty and dinner was over. The cafeteria would close in about half an hour. She spotted a nurse she knew from the E.R. and walked over to her.
Kate Carpenter was a beautiful brunette with big hazel eyes and a gift for connecting with the patients who came into Mercy Medical for emergency care. She was alternately tender and tough, depending on what was needed, and situations in the E.R. could get pretty intense. It was important to have someone who moved fluidly between people looking for help and the doctors who made the hard calls. Rebecca knew some of them weren’t easy to get along with.
“Hi,