Marie Ferrarella - Undercover M.d.

“Doctor, why don’t you go on in there now?”

Unnoticed—a remarkable feat considering her size—Wanda had come up behind Terrance and the little girl’s distraught father as they stood outside the examination room.

“I’ll take care of Mr.—” Wanda paused as she looked at the man. Her eyes were filled with understanding and compassion.

“Carey,” the man mumbled without seeming to be aware that he had said anything. He leaned his fisted hands against the upper portion of the exam room door, as if to somehow brace himself and help ward off the very worst.

“I’ll take care of Mr. Carey,” Wanda repeated, slipping a comforting arm around his shoulders. Though the man was taller than she, he seemed vulnerable and smaller. The events of the morning had diminished him.

Wanda glanced over her shoulder toward Terrance when he made no attempt to move. She made a slight movement of her brows, narrowing them quizzically, as she led Carey away to the lounge.

Terrance had no choice. Unless he wanted to arouse the head nurse’s suspicions, he had to go into the exam room. Feeling incredibly out of place, he pushed open the swinging door and entered.

The instant he did, a wall of noise and chaos reached out and grabbed him, sucking him into its midst.

Alix glanced up in his direction. There were tubes running into the little girl’s mouth and attached to both her arms. The readings didn’t look promising, but at least there was still activity going on.

“Nice of you to join us, Doctor,” she noted coolly. Several of the nurses exchanged glances. They weren’t used to Alix being anything other than warm and friendly. “Where have you been?”

“With her father.” Terrance’s answer was lost in the shuffle of people as behind him, another man entered the room.

“You called for a miracle worker?”

Terrance turned and saw the man who’d been sitting beside Alix in the meeting join the fray. Despite the obvious circumstances, the latter smiled warmly at her.

“You got that right,” Alix said. It was beginning to look to Alix as if the little girl might need more than just one doctor to help her make it. Alix rattled off a capsulized version of what had happened. “Mother jumped from the roof of the courthouse, taking her daughter with her.” It never did any good to try to distance herself from her cases. Her heart was too big to allow it, even though it cost her emotionally. “She’s got all sorts of internal damage going on, but she’s hanging in there. She’s a fighter.” Alix brushed the bangs away from the girl’s forehead. “Poor little thing.”

“Wendy,” Terrance said. Alix looked up at him sharply. “Her father said her name’s Wendy.”

“Well, she certainly wasn’t meant to fly, at least not without Peter Pan,” Reese commented, looking toward the closest nurse. “Call up to the O.R. and tell them to get a room ready immediately, Donna. Then page Dr. Owlsey. I have a feeling I’m going to need all the help I can get here.” As the nurse ran to the wall phone, Reese looked at Alix. The orderly beside him was taking the brakes off the bed, mobilizing it for the trip to the elevator. “Want to come along?”

Alix shook her head. She knew she’d be of more use down here. “I’ll only get in your way. I’ll stop by later to see how she’s doing.” She smiled at him. “I’ve got faith in you, Reese.”

Terrance tried not to remember when that smile had been his alone to absorb. He clamped down on any extraneous feelings that threatened to seep through. Like the lady had said, the past was the past. There was no use in going there.

“Good to know,” Reese quipped. He looked at Terrance as he hurried beside the bed from the exam room. “Reese Bendenetti, internal surgery.”

“Nice to meet you,” Terrance called after the man. Reese, the bed and the two nurses and one orderly with him disappeared around the corner.

Terrance blew out a breath, realizing that he’d been in the midst of an adrenaline rush without knowing it. Ordinarily when he experienced one there were guns involved. And usually a drug bust.

With one drama now beyond her control, Alix turned toward Terrance, annoyance etched into her expression. “Where the hell were you?” she demanded. Shedding the yellow gown, she shoved it into a trash basket, her eyes blazing. “You were supposed to be in there with me.”

“I was.”

Typical. He was playing with words. Just as he always had. “From the beginning, Doctor.”

She was swiping at him. He figured he owed this to her. “I already told you. I was outside, comforting the father.”

Alix pressed her lips together to keep back choice comments. She’d never felt so out of control, so unsettled. “We have nurses for that.”

“I know,” he replied quietly, refusing to be drawn into an argument. “Wanda took him over. But at the time, it seemed like the thing to do.” Maybe if he complimented her, she’d back off. “Besides, you seemed to be on top of it.”

She never felt on top of it. She always felt that there was a little more she could do, even as her patients were pulling through. There was always the nagging concern that something had been overlooked, that her efforts weren’t enough.

But part of her success, part of the reason her patients did so well and their parents always returned to her, was that she knew how to make it seem as if she was on top of a situation. She knew how to make them think that she had all the answers even before the questions were formed. Knew how to make them feel confident.

She wished she could say the same for herself. It was all a ruse. She supposed that gave her something in common with magicians and actors.

“That’s no excuse,” she told him tersely. “You’re here to assist and learn our way of doing things.” She fisted her hands at her waist as she looked up at him. He was a good ten inches taller. “Or don’t you think you need to?”

The fire in her eyes had him feeling nostalgic despite the sharpness in her voice. There was a time when he would have warmed himself at that fire, rather than feel it as a threat. “I know better than to be lured into a fight with you, Alix.”

She resisted the temptation to tell him to call her Dr. DuCane. She wanted no more familiarity between them than was absolutely necessary. “Oh, really? I wouldn’t have thought you knew anything about me at all.”

Terrance looked around for someplace more private. “Look, I—”

Whatever he had to say, she didn’t want to hear it. There was nothing that could be said to whitewash what had happened six years ago.

“Why don’t you make yourself useful and take the patient to Bed K?” It was not a suggestion, but an order, issued crisply. “I’ll be around if you need me.”

Terrance remembered how she used to say that to him when they were studying for their MCATS. She’d always been the better student. The familiar phrase brought a smile to his lips. “Just like old times.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Nothing at all like old times,” she informed him tersely. “Bed K,” she repeated, pointing toward the general area as she walked away. “The nurse said he has projectile vomiting, so I’d stand clear if I were you.”

As Alix rounded the desk at the nurse’s station, Wanda made a comment. “Seems to be sparks flying between you and that new miracle worker.”

Alix punched her ID into the computer. A screen popped up, and she began a search for information she needed to treat one of the patients she’d admitted early this morning.

God, this was all she needed, hospital gossip. “No sparks, Wanda.”

The woman snorted. “Didn’t look that way from where I was standing.”