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“You’ll protect me from what’s in the dark.”
She smiled up into his face.
Damn, if he took so much as a breath, he’d be brushing up against her. How could one small woman unnerve him like this? She was too close. Much too close.
Much too desirable.
He tried to get a grip. “How about if what’s in the dark is me?”
Her pulse began to accelerate. Things were happening inside her, things she couldn’t stop. It was as if someone had thrown a switch. Or taken off her blinkers.
Her breath backed up into her lungs. The words came out in a whisper. “I don’t need protecting from you.”
Unable to help himself, he ran his thumb along her lower lip. “I wouldn’t be too sure of that.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Marie Ferrarella, USA TODAY bestselling and RITA® Award-winning author, has written over one hundred and fifty novels, some under the name Marie Nicole. Her romances are beloved by fans worldwide.
Dear Reader,
This story should have been the third and last instalment of THE DOCTORS PULASKI. But once I began writing about the family, two more sisters appeared. So this book is now only the middle one. You know what they say about the middle of the sandwich – it’s the best part. I will leave that decision up to you, meaning you have to read the next two to compare.
In her own way, Leokadia, Kady for short, is my favourite sister. I named her after my mother (who absolutely hated her name and was appalled when I gave it to my daughter as a middle name). Writing about the Pulaski family is a wonderful treat for me because it brings back my childhood. Many touches from growing up Polish in New York City have found their way onto these pages. Kady is very outgoing. The hero, Byron, her protector-against-his-will, is not. There’s a lot of my husband in him.
I hope this story succeeds in entertaining you. As ever, I wish you someone to love who loves you back.
Marie Ferrarella
Her Sworn Protector
MARIE FERRARELLA
To Bobbie Cimo, with deep affection,
for being so entertaining.
Chapter 1
There were times, like now, as she tried to get comfortable against the soft black leather seat of the limo, that Dr. Leokadia Pulaski felt she might have chosen the wrong field to give her heart and soul to. If she’d been a dermatologist, there would be no midnight calls rousing her out of sleep, forcing her to jolt her mind awake as she haphazardly pulled clothes on her body and tried to retrieve the directions to Patience Memorial Hospital out of her fog-enshrouded brain. To Kady’s knowledge, no one ever placed an emergency call before dawn because a pimple had made a sudden, unscheduled and drastic appearance.
But they did with cardiologists.
Exhausted as she was, feeling as if she’d been run over by two tractor trailers, the thought of changing fields, of leaving cardiology and her heart—no pun intended—was tempting.
Yet there was absolutely nothing in the world like the high she sustained when she managed to save someone’s life. Or the feeling of accomplishment that arose by putting someone on the path that would steer him or her away from that dreaded midnight call and that life-threatening, searing pain.
Kady knew she was exactly what she wanted to be. A cardiologist associated with a top-ranked New York hospital. The same hospital where her two older sisters, Sasha and Natalya, practiced. She was good at what she did and she was proud of it.
Kady hung on to that thought as she sat in the back of the elegant stretch limousine that wove its way like a determined bullet through the just-post-dawn traffic. Its destination—the Plageanos Building where Milos Plageanos, the shipping magnate, had his penthouse apartment.
“Coffee, Doctor?”
The words rumbled out of the mouth of the dark-haired man sitting opposite her. The man who had been sent to bring her back. Tall, close to stone-faced, the black overcoat he had on strained against muscles that were a prerequisite in his line of work. She only knew him by one name. Byron. Whether that was his first or last, she had no idea.
As far as Milos was concerned, Byron’s job was to guard his body and to fetch his cardiologist on those occasions when his breath became short and his chest felt as if it was constricting.
They—she, Milos and Byron—had met in the emergency room two years ago when Byron had rushed in, carrying his employer in his arms. Milos had had a minor TIA, which amounted to a misunderstanding between his veins and his heart. The man had been at a club located two and a half blocks from the hospital. Something one of the ladies in his company had suggested, or possibly done, had resulted in the sudden need for medical attention. Byron had been vague about that when she’d asked.
Kady had been on duty that night, and when the nurse had pointed her out to him, Byron had been quick to commandeer her. She’d assessed the situation and had Milos feeling “good as new—better even” according to his own words within a couple of hours. Grateful and somewhat smitten, Milos had tried to hire her as his personal physician.
She had turned him down gently and found herself besieged with flowers, cards and gifts, all of which she sent back with thanks. As was his hallmark, Milos continued to be persistent. Eventually a compromise was struck.
Like all the physicians of her generation, Kady did not make house calls. Patients who found themselves in sudden need of her services met her in the emergency room of Patience Memorial Hospital. But Milos Plageanos was not the average patient. There had never been anything average about the man. Born to wealth, he had carefully overseen his inheritance until the name Plageanos became synonymous with the top shipping empire in the world. In the past forty years, there had been many challenges for the title. So far, only one had come close, causing a bitter rivalry to rage.
Milos was accustomed to putting a price on everything and was in turn surprised, annoyed and then greatly impressed when she turned down his lucrative offer. But he had not gotten to his present position in life by taking no for an answer. Accepting that she wouldn’t be his personal physician, he still wanted her services whenever he felt he needed them. Since money in her own pocket didn’t sway her, Milos decided to get to her by way of her generous heart. He informed her that he was donating enough money to Patience Memorial Hospital to build a new pediatric-cardiology wing, something he’d learned was dear to her heart. As if that wasn’t enough, he also donated liberally to the free medical clinic where she and her sisters volunteered once a week.
“I am a man no one turns down completely,” he had proudly informed her when she came to thank him for his generosity.
Delivered by anyone else, the words would have made her balk. But aside from being shrewd and canny when it came to investments, when he wanted
