because he wasn’t so sure being alone with her outside this hospital was a good idea. He wasn’t sure he would be able to keep his hands off her.
And he respected her as a colleague too much to ruin her life, but he was too deep into this charade to change course now.
She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, which was why being around her was so dangerous for him. When he was around her it was an internal struggle not to pull her into his arms and kiss her, but she was completely off limits.
Of course that complicated matters, as they were getting married in a couple of days.
He just wasn’t a relationship kind of guy and he wouldn’t hurt Lana. She deserved more than he could offer her.
Which was nothing. He could offer her nothing.
What she was doing for him—there was no way that he could ever make up for that. Except keep his distance, no matter how much he wanted to bridge the gap between the two of them. His blood heated just thinking about taking her in his arms, running his fingers through her long, silky black hair and kissing those soft pink lips.
A scream shook him out of his dangerous thoughts.
“Zut, zut, zut...” the patient slurred through sedation.
“Donc désolé, monsieur. Il sera bientôt fini,” he quickly apologized as the man writhed in pain.
Lana winced as she held the man down to stop him from injuring himself more. “I take it that’s not a pleasant word.”
“See, you understand French perfectly,” Andrew teased as he tried to calm their patient down with a shot of morphine.
“The examination’s all done,” Lana said.
Andrew translated and the patient visibly relaxed. “Well, what’s the verdict?”
Although he knew. The way the man had screamed. This wasn’t just a simple run-of-the-mill dislocated shoulder. This was something more.
“He’s going to need surgery,” she said as she peeled off her gloves. “I’ll go prep the OR and if you could run all the pre-operative labs and make sure his next of kin is notified that would be helpful.”
“Can do,” Andrew said quickly. “Is there anything else I can do to assist you, Lana?”
“You could come into the OR with me. You have surgical training. You could advise me.”
It wasn’t an unreasonable request. This man was his patient, he did have a surgical license, but he didn’t practice here for a very good reason. He didn’t trust himself to hold a scalpel. And he didn’t trust his reaction walking into that OR. The memories of what had happened to him, his crushed hopes and dreams, all because of a foolish mistake which had cost him his dreams of becoming a world champion surfer. Cost his sister her life.
And the OR, a place that he used to love, was now a place he loathed.
“I don’t have surgical privileges at this hospital,” he said and he hoped that would be enough to deter her. It was usually enough to deter other surgeons who asked him questions that he wasn’t comfortable answering.
“I’m not asking you to assist, but this is your patient too.”
She was right, but he just couldn’t go in there. Even though he missed it. Even though he had been a damn good surgeon before his shoulder had been destroyed. When his hands could grip properly.
When his back wasn’t so marred with scars from a surgery that had been botched.
The OR had been a place he loved. A chance to do the work he loved. It was exciting and challenging yet it grounded him. Almost as much as surfing. There was a thrill in the operating room, just like when he was on a board and shredding the nar.
And now he couldn’t do either.
At least he could coach Jack in surfing. At least he could be there as Jack’s sports medicine physician and get him to the world championships. Provided Lana and he were able to pull off this farce of a marriage.
“I’m sorry, Lana, but I can’t. I have other patients to see. I am the orthopedic doctor on call tonight. I diagnose them, you operate on them.”
She looked as if she was going to say more, but instead she nodded. “Okay, well, just make sure his labs get done and his family is notified. I’ll send a resident to come fetch him when it’s time to go to the OR. Start him on some antibiotics as well.”
I know.
“Will do.”
Lana nodded and left him. Andrew gripped the clipboard, his one good arm holding it tightly but his other arm shaking because it was weak and for that he hated himself a bit.
* * *
The surgery was almost textbook. Several times Lana looked up in the gallery to see if Andrew was up there, like he had been before, but he wasn’t. He was so afraid of the operating room.
What had happened?
She knew he had been a surgeon up in Canada. And she knew that he’d been a successful one. A sought-after surgeon who was innovative and ground-breaking. So why had he given it up?
Her father would grant Andrew surgical privileges in a heartbeat if Andrew gave any indication that he wanted to get back into the operating room. It actually made her a bit nervous when he did watch her.
Andrew had developed a bone flap method known as the Tremblay that was being used widely in Canada and across most states. Yet he had never offered to show anyone that technique. She’d always thought he just wanted to keep it to himself for job security, but now that he kept refusing to go into the operating room, and didn’t ask for surgical privileges, she couldn’t help but wonder more.
And she wondered if it had something to do with the shoulder and arm that seemed to grieve him the most.
Muscle tension, my ass!
Once she’d made sure their tourist patient was comfortable, out of the recovery room and in the care of a nurse that spoke French fluently she was able to finally go home for the night.
As she was gathering up her stuff, including the garment bag which held the dress for the gala tomorrow night, she passed by the Attending lounge. Drawn by the flicker of the television screen, she peered in the door.
Andrew was in there; he was leaned over, staring intently at the screen. He was watching a surfing semifinal, but she didn’t know from what year and it was too far away to make out who the surfer was.
When the surfer, riding on an enormous wave, fell off the board she winced.
That had to be a hard fall.
Andrew flicked off the television and then leaned over, his face buried in his hands, but only for a moment as he dragged his hands through his hair. She could see him mouthing curse words through the window.
She backed away from the Attending lounge because she didn’t want him to see her standing there, staring at him.
