Marie Ferrarella - Undercover M.d.

Terrance McCall. The breath in her throat caught. For one frightening second, it was as if all the carefully reconstructed pieces of her once-shattered world—the pieces she had worked so hard to put together after Terrance had vanished from her life—threatened to crack apart again.

“Alix, you look like you’ve seen a ghost. Do you know him?” her colleague asked.

“Yes,” she replied quietly, her mouth dry, her palms damp. “I know him.”

A ghost. It was a good way to describe Terrance. He was a ghost from her past. How many times had she wondered if he was dead? Had been convinced of it? Because if he were alive, she was certain he would have tried to explain how he could have gone from loving her to disappearing into some black hole, forever out of sight.

Here he was, older, handsomer, looking for all the world as if he’d just been away on an extended vacation.

And he was smiling.

Damn him to hell.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

earned a master’s degree in Shakespearean comedy, and, perhaps as a result, her writing is distinguished by humor and natural dialogue. This RITA ®Award-winning author’s goal is to entertain and to make people laugh and feel good. She has written over one hundred books for Silhouette, some under the name Marie Nicole. Her romances are beloved by fans worldwide and have been translated into Spanish, Italian, German, Russian, Polish, Japanese and Korean.

To

Sherry and Rick Newcomb,

with affection

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

She didn’t make a sound.

Even so, she felt as if her whole body had just been turned inside out and twisted. Hard.

She pressed her lips together. A silent scream filled her.

One moment, Alix DuCane was sitting in the third floor conference room, trying not to nod off as the combination of lack of air and Blair Memorial’s chief of staff giving his weekly “informal” talk conspired to put her to sleep. The next, adrenaline was charging through her body like an F15 Tomcat the split second before it broke through the sound barrier.

And all because of the name that Dr. Beauchamp had just uttered. The name of the newest addition to the hospital’s pediatric ward. Dr. Terrance McCall.

It couldn’t be.

The words vibrated within her chest.

It couldn’t be.

Almost afraid to look, unconsciously holding her breath, Alix shifted her eyes to the right as she detected movement from that side of the room.

It couldn’t be, but it was.

Terrance.

Terry.

Oh God.

The breath in her throat caught there like a solid, immovable lump. She felt as if she was choking. For one frightening second, it was as if all the carefully reconstructed pieces of her once-shattered world threatened to crack apart again. The pieces she had worked so hard to put together after Terrance had vanished from her life, leaving her with haunting questions and a heart that ached so badly she was certain it would literally break.

“Alix, you okay?”

The whispered question came from her right, from Reese Bendenetti. The surgeon leaned forward as if to get a better look at her face.

Reese was as close a friend as she had at Blair. She appreciated his concern, but this was something she couldn’t share. Not yet.

Very carefully she took in a deep breath, trying not to appear as stunned, as upset as she was.

“Yes, I’m okay. Thanks for asking.” The quip lacked her usual verve. She hoped he wouldn’t notice. The last thing she wanted right now were more questions.

Reese looked from Alix’s face to the man who had come up to join Beauchamp at the podium. Blair’s newest physician was tall, blond and good-looking in a rugged sort of way.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Do you know him?”

“Yes,” she replied quietly, her mouth dry, her palms damp. “I know him.”

A ghost. It was a good way to describe Terrance, she thought. He was a ghost. A ghost from her past. Literally.

How many times had she wondered if he was dead? Had been convinced of it? Because if he were alive, she was certain Terrance would have gotten in touch with her, if only just once. He would have tried to explain how he could have gone from loving her, from being the center of her universe, to disappearing into some black hole, forever out of sight.

Wouldn’t he have at least tried?

Yet here he was, older, handsomer, looking for all the world as if he’d just been away on a long, extended vacation.

He was smiling.

Damn him to hell.

She felt Reese shifting beside her. “You want to go out for some air?” he prodded, his voice low as Beauchamp went on talking.

Alix had known Reese for five years, and they had been there for each other, through good times and bad. He knew her as well as anyone. In all that time, she knew he’d never seen her like this. Not even when Jeff, her husband of two years, had been killed in that boating accident.

Reese could no doubt see that the man at the front of the room had left one hell of a footprint on the beach of her life.

As if set on delayed reaction, Alix waved away his suggestion, never taking her eyes off the front of the room. Off Terrance.

“I’m okay,” she declared in a whisper that was a little too fierce to be true.

She wasn’t okay. But she was a survivor and she would be. Even now, she tried to tell herself, the shock of seeing Terrance after all these years was abating.

Her heart rate was returning to normal.

Alix took another deep breath and let it out slowly as she forced a smile to her lips. She turned to look at Reese. She could feel the waves of his concern washing over her. It helped. Some.

“Really,” she added with what she prayed was a convincing note.

Alix didn’t want to admit to anything being wrong. She was incredibly independent and incredibly proud. Any show of weakness was inexcusable. She prided herself on being there for people, not vice versa.

Resigned, he nodded. “Okay, but I’m here if you want to talk.”

Just as she had always been for him, Alix thought fondly. Fighting to rally and regain control over her emotions, she placed her hand over his and gave it an affectionate squeeze.

“Ditto.”

Reese shook his head. “I’m not the one who just turned whiter than fresh snow at Big Bear.”

And he wasn’t the one who had lost his heart, utterly and completely, to the man at the front of the room, she thought. A wave of bitterness struggled to take hold of her.

Terrance McCall had been her first love, her truest love, in the days when she believed that love made you invincible and that happy endings existed beyond the pages of fairy-tale books.

What are you doing here, Terrance? After all this time, what the hell are you doing here?

Willing herself into an almost coma-like state, Alix stared straight ahead and tried to listen to what was being said. Words kept bouncing off her ears, refusing to enter or register.

Dr. Clarence Beauchamp, whose skills as a surgeon, luckily for his patients, far surpassed his oratory abilities, was still meandering his way through the introduction.

“…and Boston General’s loss, of course, is Blair Memorial’s gain.”