The MD's Mistress / The Money Man's Seduction: The MD's Mistress. Leslie LaFoy

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The MD's Mistress / The Money Man's Seduction: The MD's Mistress - Leslie  LaFoy

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“I’m over it,” she said, drawing a breath and sighing. “Resigned to going.”

      “It really is best for you, Becca. I can’t tell you how very concerned I, as well as all the people in the village, have been about you.”

      “They’ve all noticed me slowing down, I suppose.”

      “No, you haven’t slowed down, that’s your problem,” her friend answered. “We’ve all noticed you dwindling down, week after week.”

      Becca coughed again, on the tears clogging her throat, she figured. “I love them, Shak.”

      The other woman’s smile was warm with affection. “I know. We all love you back.”

      Fortunately for Becca, she was saved from completely breaking down by the rescue team returning to collect her. She squeezed Shakana’s hand, hard, as if afraid of letting go.

      Shakana squeezed back. “I can’t walk with you to the plane. I must get back to work.” She hesitated, tears beginning to seep down her face. “Get well soon, Becca. I’ll miss you.”

      “I’ll miss you, too.” Becca was crying again. “I’ll be in touch online,” she promised, reluctantly releasing her hand.

      “You’d better.” Shakana was openly crying now. “Goodbye, Becca.” She stepped back to let the men move into place at the litter.

      Miserable, hating Seth Andrews, she waved goodbye to the people crowded outside the hospital and along the road to the small airfield where a large rescue helicopter sat waiting. She never noticed the two photographers in the midst of the people, snapping away as she passed by.

      Dr. Andrews was already in the chopper, looking angry and disgusted. Becca hoped he hadn’t found out Shakana had been the one to turn him in…so to speak.

      Within minutes, the experienced crew had settled her comfortably inside the craft. Not wanting to look at Seth’s grim expression, she closed her eyes and turned her head away.

      They made two stops en route, one in Israel where she was given a light meal of broth and coffee. From Israel, they were flown by jet to a military base in Germany. While there, Becca learned there had been a discussion on whether or not to fly her and the doctor straight home to the U.S. or hospitalize them there overnight.

      At the time, tired, not caring about anything, Becca had no idea who made the decision to fly directly back to the States. Without argument, she ate the light meal she was offered and drank the vitamin-enriched drink handed to her. When finished she settled back and closed her eyes. All she wanted to do was sleep.

      And sleep she did, deeply. She roused as the large plane began its descent at another military base near Philadelphia.

      Having turned in her sleep, the first thing Becca saw when she opened her eyes was Seth Andrews. He was sound asleep, and asleep he looked like an altogether different man. Though still haggard, in repose the sharp features of his face appeared softer and younger. His enviably long dark lashes blended in with the darkness underlying his eyes.

      He looked approachable.

      Uh, yeah, Becca chided her fanciful thoughts. She knew better than most how very unapproachable Seth Andrews really was. The term sleeping tiger sprang to her mind, causing a frown to crease her brow.

      The plane’s wheels touched down. His eyes sprang open, and he appeared ready to spring to his feet.

      “We’re landing,” she said, her voice rough from her dry throat.

      “So I see.” He stared at her, hard. “How are you feeling, Rebecca?”

      “About as good as anyone after making such a long flight,” she answered. “What about you, Doctor? Oh, and everyone calls me Becca,” she added, as if he hadn’t known that since the first day they had met.

      “Matter of fact, Becca, I feel lousy,” he admitted, to her surprise. “And, my name, as you well know, is Seth.” This statement surprised her even more. “And whether or not you knew it, you were coughing in your sleep.”

      “I didn’t know it.” Not about to call him by name, she eyed him warily. The plane was taxiing, somewhere. “Where do we go from here, do you know?”

      He nodded wearily. “Yeah. We’ll be ambulanced to the U. of P. hospital.”

      “But…” she protested. “I want to go home. I don’t want to go to another hospital.”

      “Too bad, because you’re going.” His voice was adamant.

      “But…” she began again.

      The door of the plane was opened. Hot air rushed into the interior, reminding Becca it was nearing the end of summer in the northeast.

      “Save your objections, Becca.” He grimaced. “I don’t want to go, either. But we’re under orders.”

      “Orders—whose orders?”

      The latest crew was coming for them to deplane.

      “The head honcho of the hospital,” he answered, as she was lifted onto an ambulance gurney. “He wants a complete workup on both of us.”

      Becca caught the last of his words as she was lowered from the plane.

      Damn, she thought, she wanted to go home.

      Seth was in a foul mood, not at all happy with the situation. Dammit! He’d screwed up everything. All he had wanted was to get Rebecca out of Africa for her own good.

      She coughed as they were sliding the gurney into the ambulance. He frowned. He didn’t at all like the sound of that cough. He should have requested rescue for her sooner, even if he had known the administrator of the University of Pennsylvania Hospital would conclude if Rebecca needed to be sent home, in all probability Seth needed a break as well.

      Seth had been on staff at the U. of P. for a couple of years before Rebecca had come to work at the hospital. She was one of the best nurses with whom he had ever worked.

      She was one of the most lovely and appealing, too. He had felt an attraction to her almost at once—an attraction both physical and emotional that Seth told himself he neither needed nor wanted.

      That being the case, he deliberately constructed an invisible shield around himself, a facade of cool detachment and disinterest. Yet, no matter how hard he fought it, the attraction grew stronger. He even tried blaming her, but that wouldn’t wash, even to himself, because in all truth, Rebecca had always been efficient, withdrawn and every bit as cool, if not more so.

      He hadn’t gone to Africa because of her. He was in line to take over for the doctor there within the year she had started at the hospital. But he was relieved when the notice came for him to clear his schedule in preparation for going.

      But putting distance between himself and Rebecca hadn’t changed his feelings for her in the least. They had grown stronger; he missed her next to him in the O.R., cool detachment or not.

      And then, a month after he had arrived in Africa, Becca had shown up to work with

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