Marie Ferrarella - Undercover M.d.

The tall, portly man addressed the clichéd observation to both the young doctor standing beside him and the audience being held captive before him. Beauchamp’s small lips struggled to widen into the smile that was always larger than he was actually capable of accommodating.

“Of course, we show no favoritism here at Blair. All created equal and that sort of thing.” His clear blue eyes sparkled at what he must have deemed a display of wit. “Which means in your case, Dr. McCall, that you will be treated like a cross between a god-like healer and a fledgling intern. A situation,” he hastened to add in case he was ruffling the pediatrician’s feathers, “if your record is any indication, that will change quickly, I’m sure.”

“However, for the time being you are going to need someone to show you the ropes, so to speak.” Dr. Beauchamp looked pointedly around the sea of faces before him. “Someone in your department, of course. To that end, I have reviewed all the likely candidates and decided that your best bet…and ours—” he beamed again, his thin lips straining, all but disappearing into his smile “—is Dr. Alix DuCane.”

Surprise speared through Terrance.

He managed to retain the easy smile on his lips. But that had come from years of training. Years of knowing that one false, unguarded moment could cost him not only the success of the operation he was involved in, but perhaps even his very life. Or worse, the lives of others depending on him.

Alix DuCane? Here?

“Alix is one of the finest young physicians on the staff,” Beauchamp was saying. “No small compliment, considering that Blair Memorial was voted one of the finest hospitals not just in Southern California, but in the entire country. But you undoubtedly already know that, or you wouldn’t have chosen to transfer here in the first place. Am I right, Dr. McCall?”

“Absolutely,” Terrance agreed readily.

Beauchamp’s voice droned on like so much well-intended noise in the background as Terrance scanned the small, crowded room and the occupants who sat almost shoulder to shoulder in the twelve rows of chairs arranged before the podium.

Accustomed to zeroing in on his target with skilled precision, Terrance found Alix in less than two beats of his admittedly agitated heart.

For a split second everything around him froze as he looked at her.

She was sitting beside a dark, good-looking man. From his vantage point, Terrance could see her hand was covering the man’s.

Friend?

Lover?

Once, he’d been both of those to her and more. So much more.

But that was in the past, Terrance reminded himself sternly, and this was the present. A present where he couldn’t afford to allow his emotions to get in the way of things…the way he had once allowed his emotions to bring him into this chosen profession of his. A profession that had forced him to turn his back on everything and everyone else who had been important before.

A profession that had forced him to turn his back on Alix.

She looked pale. Shock. Small wonder if it was in response to seeing him. He felt the same way about seeing her. It was only his survival instincts that prevented him from showing it.

Even pale seemed to suit her, Terrance couldn’t help thinking.

God, was it possible that Alix had grown even more heart-stoppingly gorgeous than when he had left? It appeared that the wildflower had bloomed into an exquisite orchid.

Whose life did she adorn?

Not your concern, he told himself. He’d given up the right to know, when he’d left town.

When he’d left her.

With effort Terrance roused himself, forcing his mind back to the droning voice beside him and the man who was trying his level best to make the transition easier for him.

If Beauchamp only knew….

But he didn’t. A great many people had gone through a great deal of pain to ensure that. Beauchamp, along with the others, was going to be kept in the dark until the operation was over. With any luck, that would be soon.

Beauchamp took a deep breath as he ended his narrative. “Is there anything you’d like to say or add, Dr. McCall?”

Yes, Terrance thought, there was something he’d like to say. But not to the crowd of physicians looking at him. Not even to Alix. His words would have been directed to his immediate superior, uttered in quiet, steely tones and demanding to know why someone hadn’t thought to let him know that he was going to be coming in contact with a vital portion of his past. That he was going to be coming in contact with the only woman he had ever loved.

Because no one knew, that’s why, he reminded himself. He’d left his past behind the day he’d walked away. Still, he wished that he’d somehow been forewarned, had thought to go over the hospital roster before he’d walked through Blair’s doors.

Too late now.

He could only make the best of the situation and hope that damage control would do the rest.

Terrance’s mouth curved in an easy smile that gave absolutely no indication of the inner turmoil he was attempting to quell.

He leaned over the small, unnecessary microphone that Beauchamp had insisted on using. “Just that I hope to live up to the standards that the name of Blair Memorial Hospital has come to represent.”

Like a proud father receiving a compliment about his favorite child, Beauchamp beamed.

“I’m sure you will, my boy.” The chief of staff laid a paternal hand on Terrance’s shoulder. “I’m sure you will.” His eyes swept over the room and its occupants. “Well, that’s it, ladies and gentlemen, meeting’s adjourned. Go back to saving lives and being miracle workers.”

Beauchamp chuckled at his trademark closing line. Then he raised his voice to be heard above the mounting din. “Alix, would you mind joining us?” He beckoned her forward.

Reese looked at her pointedly as he rose. “Call me,” he told her firmly. “Night or day.”

As if she would intrude on his life now that he was a married man. “London might have something to say about that,” she reminded him.

At the mention of his wife’s name, Reese grinned. Married just three months and he’d perpetually been in this state of grace that caused him to laugh to himself at unexpected, sporadic moments. As if he’d no idea that a person could feel this good and not be dreaming.

“Yes, ‘Come on over,’ if I know her.”

Alix merely nodded. He was probably right. The daughter of the ambassador to Spain had captured her best friend’s heart the instant she’d been wheeled into the emergency room last year. She was a warm, vibrant woman who had a great ability to empathize and give comfort. The two firmly deserved each other.

And what do you deserve? Alix thought as she approached the front of the room, her eyes fixed on Beauchamp and not Terrance. Certainly not to have my heart whacked around like a giant Ping-Pong ball at some phantom gaming table.

I’m over you, Terrance. I’m over you.

She silently chanted the refrain over and over again in her mind like a life-giving mantra as her steps brought her closer to the two men.

She wished she’d called in sick today. Played hooky and stayed home with her daughter. But that would have meant that Norma would have found out. The very woman who now baby-sat her child had once baby-sat her, as well. And if Norma knew something, it was only a matter of time before her father found out as well. The woman had been his housekeeper for forty years.

Daniel DuCane wouldn’t have said anything to her about her lapse, but she knew he would have been disappointed that she would flaunt the principles to which he had dedicated his life all these years. After all, it was because her father was a doctor that she had become one, too.