Loe raamatut: «Healing The Doctor's Heart»
He’s a great doctor
Will she make him a better man?
When pediatrician Lauren Peterson becomes a live-in companion to Jake Masters, a reclusive surgeon with an arm injury and attitude problem, she knows it’ll be tough going. Jake is totally disillusioned with the medical profession, so Lauren can’t tell him she’s a doctor. The deception’s easyuntil she falls for the unexpectedly kind heart beneath Jake’s unfriendly exterior. Can the truth give them both a fresh start?
SHIRLEY HAILSTOCK began her writing life as a lover of reading. She likes nothing better than to find a quiet corner where she can get lost in a book, explore new worlds and visit places she never expected to see. As an author, she can not only visit those places, but she can be the heroine of her own stories. The author of forty novels and novellas, Shirley has received numerous awards, including a National Readers’ Choice Award, a Romance Writers of America’s Emma Merritt Award and an RT Book Reviews Career Achievement Award. Shirley’s books have appeared on several bestseller lists, including the Glamour, Essence and Library Journal lists. She is a past president of Romance Writers of America.
Also By Shirley Hailstock
Summer on Kendall Farm
Promises to Keep
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.
Healing the Doctor’s Heart
Shirley Hailstock
ISBN: 978-0-008-90093-9
HEALING THE DOCTOR’S HEART
© 2020 Shirley Hailstock
Published in Great Britain 2019
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
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Text to speech
Jake’s heart thumped.
He realized he didn’t want her to go. He’d become used to her being there. He even enjoyed their arguments. Sometimes he looked forward to them. But she had to be thinking of returning to work. And why wouldn’t she? He’d taken her suggestions and he was better for them.
“Lauren, if you can postpone going until Cal returns, I’d like that.”
Jake wanted to see Lauren, but he was driving and could only glance at her. She appeared at a loss for words. He didn’t know if she expected him to say what he had. He hadn’t intended to, but he liked talking to her. He liked her more than as a friend, but he couldn’t let it go further than that. He remembered her first day, when she walked into the apartment and had to pry him out of bed. Now here he was asking her not to leave.
Dear Reader,
I’ve always loved masquerade parties, and writing Healing the Doctor’s Heart gave me the opportunity to revisit that game. Lauren had to find a way of cracking the glass Jake had around his heart and her method proved unconventional to say the least.
New York City is also one of my favorite places to visit and I’m blessed to live so close to it. Setting the story there among the varied cultures and street figures that garner tourists’ attention was perfect. But the characters of Lauren Peterson and Jake Masters warmed my heart. They are part of my growing family of people I want to talk to time and time again. I want to know what happens to them next. Do they have children? How does Lauren handle a new baby? The book could go on and on and on, but there are other stories to write.
I’m working on another one right now and hopefully you’ll be ready to read the story of Jake’s brother soon.
Thanks for going on the adventure with Jake and Lauren, and if you’re interested in this and other books I’ve written, you can contact me through my web page or on social media.
Thanks again and as always, keep reading.
Shirley Hailstock
Contents
Cover
Back Cover Text
About the Author
Booklist
Title Page
Copyright
Note to Readers
Introduction
Dear Reader
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Extract
About the Publisher
CHAPTER ONE
DR. LAUREN PETERSON’S feet pounded the New York City sidewalk with the same force as her heartbeat. The point of no return was still ahead. She should turn around, dash down the steps to the subway and go back to the Brooklyn brownstone she was giving up at the end of the month. She still had time. No one would know. No one would be hurt. Disappointed, maybe, but not hurt.
She could almost feel herself doing it, reversing course and heading home, the ghost of her skirt plastered to her legs in the wind as she made her attempt to run away from what she was hurtling toward. The traffic, pedestrians all seemed to crowd around her, slowing her footsteps.
“This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done,” Lauren said out loud. Since her decision was dumb and foolish, she had no problem having people on the street thinking the same about her.
Maybe she should care.
Why had she allowed Caleb Masters to go on interviewing her for that job, especially when she realized Jake Masters wasn’t there? She stopped abruptly and looked at the sky. Two people careened into her and she backed up against a building, accepting their angry looks as she let them pass.
“What was I thinking?” This time her voice was barely above a whisper, since she knew the answer could come from only her own mind.
People around her moved aside, giving her plenty of room. Many looked curiously at her. She was talking to herself without a phone near her mouth or earbud cords streaming down to some concealed electronic device. Thankfully, she was clean, well dressed and carrying shopping bags, but that wasn’t proof that she had all her faculties.
Resuming her steps, Lauren thought of the recent interview with Caleb, only two days ago. She’d gone to it hoping Jake would be there, as well. It was her way of reconnecting with him. They hadn’t met in years. She was going to explain who she was, but that approach changed when the only person in the room was Caleb. She should have left before she made the mistake of asking about Jake, explaining that they went to college together. Caleb’s interest piqued when she said that. Of course, she was Lauren Graves back then. Everyone called her Lori. Caleb then offered her the position. She accepted it and walked away.
And that was the stupid thing.
She objected to his argument that she was perfect for the job after she’d told him she wasn’t a therapist. She was a pediatrician, dealing with children and overanxious mothers.
“He’s seen too many doctors and refuses to see another one,” Caleb said. That’s when he told her he didn’t want Jake to find out her profession.
She should have refused, left the room as fast as her spiked heels would carry her. Lauren didn’t really want a job. Not now. She’d sold her practice. Her plans were to leave New York, move to a small town near the ocean or out west and reestablish her pediatric office. How could she let herself be talked into a job as a nonmedical aide for a man she hadn’t seen in decades and conceal who she was? She was a doctor and proud of it.
And he was a broken man at that.
The schoolgirl crush she’d had on Jake Masters was preoccupying at the time, but she was an adult now, thankful that Jake was ignorant of her prior feelings. As a junior to her freshman in college, Jake didn’t even know who she was. She was sure he wouldn’t recognize her. But she wanted to see him anyway. She couldn’t explain it other than to say she wanted to know if he was still as good-looking as he’d been in college and if that foolish crush she’d had on him was still there.
In the years since she finished school, she’d thought of him in passing, usually when she was online with a school chum, or if she went to a social event with college friends. In medical school, she wondered what he was doing. Once, she’d looked him up on the internet and found a reference that he was entered in a tennis tournament. He’d been good at athletics and she was surprised that he hadn’t pursued that as a line of work.
Until Caleb told her Jake was a trauma surgeon, she wouldn’t have thought the two of them had medicine as a common denominator. Now she was about to find out what else they had in common.
Lauren had reached that imaginary line.
HER HEART THUMPED the moment Jake came out of the office building. Caleb had said he was in. Looking down at the ground, seeing the imaginary line, she hesitated for a long moment, and then watched him moving toward her. Taking a deep breath, she rushed forward, the bags and packages in her hands swinging back and forth as she sped toward some pretend engagement. There were plenty of people on the street. Not only was it the end of the lunch hour, but also the tourists in this section of the city were thick and unpredictable.
Jake’s head was down as he dodged the human traffic coming in all directions. Intentionally, Lauren bumped into him and like an actor on a stage, she bounced back, falling to the ground, her packages scattering everywhere.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, offering his left hand to help her up.
Lauren pulled her belongings close to her as other pedestrians pushed her things back in the bags and handed them to her. Finally, she took Jake’s hand and he levered her up. His hand was soft, but strong, a doctor’s hand. She was surprised at the strength of him. Even though she knew that the loss of use in his right arm had likely strengthened other part of his body, she hadn’t expected to feel so weightless as he pulled her into a standing position.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
She forced herself to breathe hard as she used her free hand to brush any street dirt from her skirt.
“I guess I’ll live. I’m mostly embarrassed. My pride is a little injured but holding. It looks like my shoe bore the brunt of the physical damage.” She hopped on one foot showing him the severed heel of her sandal.
“Let me get you a taxi,” he offered.
She wondered how he was going to do that if he didn’t let go of her and use his left hand to signal for a cab.
“I don’t need a taxi. I’m fine and I live in Brooklyn.”
“The cost will be mine,” he said. “After all, I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
She smiled. “I was walking too fast. How about we settle it with a cup of coffee.” She looked behind him. Several shops, including a coffee bar, an Italian restaurant and a Greek eatery beckoned. “I have a new pair of shoes in one of these bags.” She glanced down, lifting the bags slightly away from her. “I can change inside.”
He looked around, probably noticing the eating places for the first time. Lauren could tell he wasn’t exactly planning to spend any more time with her.
“I don’t usually eat out,” he said.
“I don’t either, but I’m leaving the city soon and I’m trying out some new things before I head into the great unknown.” She gave the last words an uptake of tone. “Come on, have some coffee with me.”
“Well”
She didn’t give him time to refuse. Grabbing his left arm, she propelled him forward. “I’ll even spring for the coffee.”
He allowed her to pull him along, but when she neared the coffee bar, he stopped.
“This one would be more comfortable,” he said. It was the Italian restaurant.
“You like Italian food.” Lauren stated the obvious.
They went in. Lauren did her one-legged hop step as they followed the waiter to a secluded booth. The place was beautifully appointed. She felt as if she’d stepped from a New York street straight into Provence or Naples. Most of the tables were empty. Waiters had already begun preparing them for the dinner crowd. White tablecloths with bud vases holding a single rose, bone china and silverware gleaming in the light.
Luck was still with her as she settled her bags and placed her napkin in her lap. The line was crossed, and there was no going back, yet there were more hurdles for her to jump before she did what she’d been hired to do.
“Have you had lunch?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“They have some very fine food here. It’s all made with fresh ingredients,” he said.
So, he did know about the restaurants in the area. She’d been wrong in that. It was a mistake on her part. She’d have to be more alert in the future or he’d trip her up.
“I suppose that’s how you like your food?” she said, just to have something to say.
He looked her straight in the eye for a long time. Lauren felt as if he was able to see into her mind. Then she realized the string of nurses and therapists he’d had in the past must have asked a question like that.
“You don’t have to cut me with your eyes. I like fresh food too,” she said.
He relaxed a bit. The waiter arrived and they quickly ordered.
“What’s wrong with your arm?” she asked when they were alone again.
“You are certainly direct for someone I only met a moment ago.”
She nodded. “You’re right, especially since we haven’t even exchanged names.”
His expression told her he had yet to think of that small detail.
“Lauren Peterson.” She extended her hand, her left hand.
Jake looked at it and after a moment pulled his hand up and shook hers. “Jake Masters.”
“Now that we’re acquainted, Jake Masters, what’s wrong with your arm?”
“I had an accident.”
“When?”
“I’m not going to play twenty questions with you.”
“Too pushy?” she commented. He’d be amazed if he knew the shy, quiet college kid she used to be still lurked inside her. She was great with children, but it took a lot of courage for her to deal with adults who weren’t the parents of her patients. And romantic relationships were out of her league ever since her divorce. “I’m sorry. I’m used to asking questions.”
“Really, what do you do?”
His speech was very formal and he sat up straight in his seat, coming only short of folding his hands in front of him like he was in the third grade. Jake wasn’t as warm and welcoming as his brother, and it made Lauren feel as if she was in another job interview.
“At the moment, I’m between careers.”
“What did you do in your last career?”
She stared at him. “Arm surgery,” she said.
A long moment went by and then he grunted. It wasn’t a laugh, but a sound that told her he didn’t believe her for a New York minute.
“And what are you going to do in your new career?”
“Now who’s asking a lot of questions?” She paused. “Anyway, I haven’t decided where to go yet. I’m looking at someplace close to the ocean. I’ve always liked the sea. I feel calm there. In the meantime, maybe I could work for you. Of course, it would be temporary.”
“And why do you think I need someone to work for me?”
The waiter interrupted them with their meals. When he left, Lauren returned to the conversation.
“Because you’re in pain and I know something about pain.”
“How do you know I’m in pain?”
“By the way you’re holding your shoulder.” At that he shifted, but didn’t truly relax. “And by the way you clench your teeth until it eases.”
She picked up her fork and took a bite of the seafood fettuccine she’d ordered. Closing her eyes at how wonderful it tasted, Lauren savored the pasta and sauce. She didn’t often cook her meals with all fresh ingredients. She didn’t have time. She remembered visiting her sisters and her parents. They always had catch-up and cook time in the kitchen. The five of them would catch up on what was happening in their lives while they made a meal. Their mom would plan the menu and each sister would choose what she wanted to make. It was a female bonding time that was fun and delicious. Lauren missed those days.
“Are you a therapist?” He nearly spit the word. The expression on his face was crafty.
“A massage therapist? Not technically, no. But I’ve done my share of working with someone in pain.” She wiggled her fingers and smiled to show she knew what she was talking about.
“Don’t bother. I’m fine. I don’t need any kind of therapist,” he said, again with a disdainful tone.
“I can see you’re in pain, but” Lauren raised and dropped her shoulders, leaving her statement open.
Jake said nothing. His silence made her only want to try harder.
“So, what do you do, Jake?”
He didn’t immediately answer. “I’m between careers at the moment.”
“I see,” she said, knowing even with his dry method of speaking, he was mocking her. “I suppose in your last career you were a bouncer.”
“What?”
“Someone who knocks people down on the street.” Lauren wondered if he ever smiled. So far he’d scowled, winced and grimaced, but showed no positive emotion at all. He looked angry, something his brother had failed to tell her. Lauren had kept an image of him as the happy college student. But they were no longer in college and she was no longer Lori Graves. She was thirty-one and he was either thirty-three or thirty-four.
“That isn’t it,” he said.
She decided not to pursue it any further. Lauren was new to this pretend game and she didn’t want to show her hand or let him discover that she’d been hired by his brother. She was naturally shy and nervous at all the talking she was having to do.
They ate in silence for a while, enjoying the excellent food. When the waiter brought the check, Lauren quickly took it. Without glancing at it, she handed him her credit card and he walked away.
“Not only pushy, but aggressive,” Jake said.
“I said I’d pay for the coffee. The food came with it.” She smiled again, hoping he’d reciprocate. She was disappointed.
The other diners finished and left the restaurant. Only she and Jake remained with the staff, who’d all but disappeared. Jake slid out of the booth. Lauren stood, still on one heel. When she saw that Jake was in pain, she placed her hand on his right arm. He stopped immediately, facing her.
“Let me help,” she said in the same voice she always used with a crying child.
She didn’t wait for his approval. In fact, she expected him to refuse. She began moving her hand along the length of his arm. With her thumb and forefinger, she worked long, steady strokes against his muscles, smoothly caressing them with both the heat and shape of her hands. It would be better if his arm was bare, but this would have to do, she thought.
Jake stiffened at her initial touch, but he relaxed as she added pressure from his shoulder to his wrist. Then using both hands, she pushed him into a seat. He didn’t resist. Lauren found points where she assumed the pain was intense. Her fingers lingered there and she added releasing pressure to ease those tissues. His right arm was thinner than the left, indicating that he hadn’t used it in a while and had not been exercising it according to any competent therapist’s routine. She finished her impromptu massage, the entire procedure taking no more than five minutes. Stepping back, she stumbled, forgetting about her heelless shoe. With flailing hands she caught the table and steadied herself.
“Are you all right?” Jake asked whipping around, his good arm extended but couldn’t have reached her in time.
“Fine.” She smiled. “But I better put on those new shoes before I break an ankle.” Reseating herself, she pulled a shoe box from one of the bags and exchanged her broken heels for a pair of flat-sole shoes. When she stood, she was noticeably shorter than he was.
Outside, Lauren looked in the direction of the subway that would take her back to Brooklyn. She turned to Jake.
“Well, Jake Masters, thank you for the company. Consider the debt paid in full.” She offered him her left hand. He took it and shook. Lauren wasn’t sure, but she almost got a smile, at least the shadow of one at the edge of his mouth.
“It was interesting,” he said, still in a formal tone.
Lauren felt like she should stand up straight and salute. She didn’t know what his comment meant and decided not to find out if it was positive or negative.
“Well, Lauren Peterson, good luck with your new career.”
Lauren opened her purse and pulled out a card. It had her name and a phone number on it. Handing it to Jake, she said, “Just in case you want someone to help alleviate the pain.”
“Temporarily?”
She heard the sarcasm in his voice.
“True, so you’d better act fast or that number will be disconnected.”
JAKE WAS SPEECHLESS. He hadn’t been whirl-winded by a woman sincenever? Had it ever happened? He couldn’t remember. As he watched Lauren Peterson walking away, Jake wondered what had just happened. Who was she? She looked slightly familiar, but he was sure he didn’t know her, didn’t know anyone like her. Someone who could be both klutzy and aggressive at the same time. Women usually flocked to him. At least they had before Jake stopped the thought. He wouldn’t go there.
Since the accident, most people tried to ignore his arm. They didn’t mention it, tiptoeing around even looking in that direction. If anyone approached him, they did it from the left. If he changed direction, they moved back to his left side, as if he had a contagious disease that would jump through the air and infect them.
Without even knowing his name, Lauren broached the subject of his injury head-on. Jake admitted that threw him for a moment. He was in pain and when she bumped into him, it escalated.
There was no pain now. She said she wasn’t a therapist, but her hands had felt magical as she soothed his muscles better than any licensed therapist had ever made him feel.
Who was she? he asked himself again. He had his eyes on her back. She walked confidently, weaving in and out of the swaying crowd. After a few seconds, she was gone, swallowed by the sea of humanity. Jake glanced at the card in his hand. It had her name and a phone number. He remembered her words. That line would be disconnected soon.
Pushing the card in his pocket, he told himself it didn’t matter. He was no longer seeing therapists or nurses. They’d proved they could do nothing for him. It was all in his head. He’d been told that by the best psychologists in the business. Of course, they didn’t use those words. They used medical school jargon to explain neurological deficits, paralysis or somatosensory losses. It was hysterical paralysis for the layman. He was no moron. He knew the language. He’d learned it alongside them in the same chairs at the same medical schools. In essence, his mind wouldn’t let him move his arm.
Turning around, Jake dismissed Lauren. This was his life and this was how it was going to be. He headed toward the car that stopped at the curb. The driver got out and rushed around to open the door. Jake levered himself inside without any help and soon the car merged into the traffic.
Back at his apartment, the place felt cold and austere. It never had before. Had Lauren somehow changed his perspective? The apartment was a grand two-story space with twenty-foot ceilings and windows almost as tall, but today it felt empty and bleak. Lauren was different, not exactly a breath of fresh air, but someone he rarely came across. She was like spring: warm, sunny, colorful. Why was she making him feel that his apartment, the space he’d lived in for the last five years, was a grayed-out shell? It had everything he needed, furniture, lighting, paintings on the walls, books and a huge concert grand piano that had once belonged to his grandmother, yet he felt as if there was no life in the place.
Wasn’t that the way he wanted it? As cold and empty as his life had become. Did the rooms reflect the state of his life? Had it atrophied along with his arm? Jake glanced at his right arm. The pain had not returned. He wondered what she’d done that was different from the multiple therapists who’d tried and failed. Why were her hands more effective than those of the professionals?
The pain was real, but phantom nevertheless. Jake stared at the limb that hadn’t moved in two years. He willed it to move. Just a small change, even minuscule, would be welcome, his brain said. He’d ordered it to move millions of times since the doctors told him there was no physical reason why he shouldn’t be able to use his arm. Yet it refused to answer the commands of his conscious brain. It hung limply by his side or stayed in a pocket if he used his left hand to put it there.
Since he’d stopped all the therapy, the arm was noticeably smaller than his left one. He could give himself all the rationalized reasons he wanted, but he knew that without exercising that arm, it would atrophy. He dug out Lauren’s card and looked at it. As he ran his thumb over the raised lettering, he outlined her name, remembering her smile and her touch. He could almost feel the warmth of her hands sliding along the grain lines of his muscles, coaxing them into submission, giving them the blood flow they needed to allow the natural biochemistry of the human body to act as nature intended it.
His brother, Cal, came through the door while Jake was still looking at the card.
“You’re late,” Cal said.
Jake knew his brother was concerned about him. He wouldn’t have been surprised if Cal put out a missing person’s report. In this case, he probably only needed to contact the limousine driver to discover that he was alive and well and talking to a stranger on the street.
“I stopped for a late lunch with a woman named Lauren Peterson.”
“Really? Who?” Cal’s brows went up in surprise. Since the accident, Jake had spoken to few women and agreed to no invitations.
Jake walked to his brother and handed him the card. “Her. Check her out.”
“Where did you meet her?”
“On the street. Actually, we ran into each other, literally. She fell, dropped her packages, then suggested we have a cup of coffee.”
“Why am I checking her out?” Cal asked.
Cal always did the background checks. At least since the accident he had, taking on the role of protector to an infirm Jake. Jake was a wealthy man and he’d been taken advantage of once. Since then he protected himself. Jake didn’t mind Cal looking out for him. He loved his brother and knew Cal loved him.
“You’re concerned about me being alone while you go away. And since I refuse more nurses and therapists, at least for a while, maybe she will be the answer.”
“Why do you think that? You’ve met her once. For the space of a lunch.” Cal frowned.
“She massaged my arm and I’m not in any pain.”
“What? Where? Did you two go somewhere?”
“Nope. Right there in the restaurant. We were about to leave and she started stroking my arm. The pain went away and so far it hasn’t come back.”
“And you let this happen?”
Cal knew how sensitive Jake had become to people touching him. Most of them didn’t want to make contact. It was only the professionals who wanted to examine him, using the royal we to ask how he was doing.
“I didn’t have much of a choice.” Jake remembered how she’d begun. He would have stopped her, but the pain was subsiding and he couldn’t refuse the relief.
“And you think this person you met on the street can fill the job.”
Tasuta katkend on lõppenud.