A Time To Mend. Angela Hunt

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pursed her lips and stared at the ceiling, her embarrassment yielding quickly to raw fury.

      “Oh, I don’t know if that is a good idea,” she heard Mrs. Baldovino answer. “My husband would be happy to have such a pretty young woman along, but since I am not as attractive as I used to be—”

      “Ernesto won’t even look in her direction,” Dr. Martin answered, making a note in the patient’s file. “He will be too busy gazing at you, Concetta.”

      And what am I—dog meat? The prideful thought skittered like a wild rabbit through Jacquelyn’s brain. She glared at him, then jerked in alarm when the doctor lifted his gaze and frankly assessed her.

      “Oh, my.” A mocking light gleamed in his eye. “I’m afraid I’ve offended Nurse Wilkes and we’ve only just met. I wouldn’t want us to get started on the wrong foot.”

      “The wrong foot?” Jacquelyn sputtered, bristling with indignation. In an instant she forgot everything she’d ever heard about airing her grievances in front of a patient, about professional manners, about the respect a nurse should show to a doctor. He was new; he hadn’t yet earned her respect. He didn’t deserve it.

      Rancor sharpened her voice. “I’d call sexual harassment the wrong way to start a working relationship.” She looked pointedly at Mrs. Baldovino, searching for an ally. “Wouldn’t you agree, Mrs. B.?”

      “Oh, my.” If possible, the woman grew a shade paler. “Nurse Jacquelyn, the doctor was only joking.”

      Jonah Martin’s jaw clenched as he rejected the patient’s softly spoken defense. “Without a doubt, my joke was in bad taste.” Like a Boy Scout taking an oath, he lifted his right hand and stared into Jacquelyn’s eyes with solemn sincerity. “On my word of honor, Nurse Wilkes, I hereby promise that I did in no case intend to demean you or suggest that your participation in an evening of camaraderie and lasagna would be necessary for you to continue your employment. I hope that my jest did in no way cause you discomfort, humiliation or mental distress.”

      The biting tone in his voice set Jacquelyn’s teeth on edge—was he teasing or just being cynical? Either way, she didn’t appreciate his approach to his patients or his coworkers.

      She lifted her chin and met his icy gaze straight on. “Doctor,” she said, ignoring Mrs. Baldovino’s stricken expression, “if you will approve this patient’s blood tests, I’m ready to take her to the chemo room. We’re behind schedule, and other patients are waiting to see you.” Though why, she couldn’t imagine.

      “Of course.” The infuriating man smiled again at his patient, whose nausea had apparently fled with the handsome doctor’s approach. “Mrs. Baldovino, I’m afraid we must get down to business. But my offer for that dinner still stands.”

      “I’ll hold you to it, Doctor,” the woman answered, her thin lips twitching with amusement as she took the doctor’s extended hand and slid from the examination table. “Lasagna it will be. But I’d rather have the tummy tuck for Ernesto.”

      “That’s plastic surgery and not my field, I’m sorry to say,” Dr. Martin answered, his voice pleasant as he stepped back to let Jacquelyn follow Mrs. Baldovino from the room. As Jacquelyn passed, she thought she detected a flicker in his intense eyes, but then he lowered his gaze to the patient’s chart and offhandedly remarked, “And it’s about time you returned from vacation, Nurse Wilkes. I must admit, I was anxious to observe the fabled ‘Nurse of the Year’ in action.” When he looked at her again, the mocking light was back in his eyes. “And now that I have, my life is complete.”

      No honest sentiment in that acknowledgment.

      “Good,” Jacquelyn countered, her mouth tight with mutiny. “Now you can die a happy man.” Without a backward glance, she lifted her chin and followed her patient to the chemo room.

      Chapter Two

      “So what did you think of him, Jackie?” Stacy applied just enough lipstick to emphasize her perfect mouth, then studied her reflection in the mirror of the ladies’ room.

      “Honestly?” Jacquelyn ripped a paper towel from the dispenser on the wall, then dramatically scrunched it between her hands. “That’s what I wanted to do after my first meeting with him today. I think I really hate him.”

      “You do?” Stacy lifted a brow. “I’ll admit he’s no Doctor Delight, but he’s been very professional with me.” She pouted prettily in the mirror. “Too professional, in fact. It’s a shame that someone so good-looking has to be so…distant. I’ve been using every fail-proof approach in my little black book, and I can’t even get a spark of interest from him.”

      “Maybe he’s too busy for a social life.”

      “He’s only been here two weeks, how busy could he be? I think he’s got a girlfriend somewhere else. Dr. Kastner said he comes from Virginia—”

      “I’ve seen his history. He comes from about everywhere.” Jacquelyn cleared her throat, not wanting to appear too interested, but dying to know more. “Strange, isn’t it, that he’s moved around so much? Has Dr. Kastner said anything about this guy’s experience?”

      “Not really.” Stacy lowered her voice and turned to face Jacquelyn. “But now that you mention it, I have noticed something strange about him. Lauren tried to draw him into our conversation the other day at lunch, and when she mentioned the names of people she knows at the University of Virginia Hospital, he got real quiet and changed the subject. And then Dr. Kastner was asking him about someone in Seattle, and again, he changed the subject. Not too subtly, either.”

      “At least we know he didn’t amputate the wrong leg or something.” Jacquelyn folded her arms as she leaned against the sink. “He’s not a surgeon. But some strange things have happened in hospitals.”

      “Dr. Kastner wouldn’t have recommended him if he weren’t a good doctor,” Stacy pointed out. “You know that. So if there is some deep and dark secret in his past, you can be sure it has nothing to do with medicine.”

      “I hope not.” Jacquelyn threw the wadded up paper towel into the trash bin and studied her reflection in the mirror. The receptionist was right, not a single trace of her vacation lingered on her face. Not a freckle or even the flush of sunburn to indicate she’d spent two weeks moping on a Bahamas beach…

      “So, what about tonight?” Stacy pulled on a stray strand of hair. “Are you coming with me? There are bound to be half a dozen doctors at this party, all available, all up-and-coming and all desperate for a little relaxation and companionship.”

      “Thanks, but I’m not looking and I’m tired.” Jacquelyn lathered her hands carefully, then immersed them into a steady stream of warm water. Nursing school had brought her a healthy appreciation for the secret life of viruses and germs, and thorough hand washing had become somewhat of a ritual for her.

      “I’m pretty sure Dr. Jonah Martin won’t be there,” Stacy added helpfully.

      “Well, that’s something.” Jacquelyn lifted her hands out of the basin so that the water dripped down toward her elbows as she moved to the paper-towel dispenser. “But I didn’t bring a change of clothes, and I’m not going to a party in my uniform.” Stacy had already changed from her white pants and teal smock into a short, beaded cocktail dress. She looked every inch a sizzling girl of summer, and not a whit

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