Tina Beckett - The Dangers Of Dating Dr Carvalho

She nodded. “I work here.”

The words sounded ridiculous, even to her, but she did not want to explain that they’d met before. Or ask if he remembered her from when he’d been four years old. Of course he wouldn’t. He’d had a brand-new life in a brand-new country. Even his last name was different now than it had been when he’d been at the orphanage.

The weird thing was that seeing him again dredged up that infantile crush she’d had on him way back when—her very first memory from her childhood days. She’d seen that beautiful face and stared at him in awe...right before she’d grabbed hold of Marcos’s hand instead—too afraid to say anything to the boy standing next to him. She’d warmed up to him later but it had been a very different warmth from what she was feeling right now.

Those brown eyes touched on her scar once more and then brushed across her lips. Could he sense her thoughts? Deus, she hoped not. With a rough indrawn breath his gaze left her and moved to his uninjured hand, which was still hanging onto the IV pole, knuckles white as his grip tightened further. “I think you’re right. I’ve had about all I can stand for one day. Would you mind giving me a hand?”

Sophia steadied her emotions and drew on years of training. “Sure.”

Moving around the desk, she commandeered the IV stand and tucked her shoulder beneath his arm. “You ready?”

Even as he gritted out an affirmative, and they started to make their way back down the corridor, she was very aware of the warmth of his body against hers and the fact that her arm was resting across naked skin where his robe parted. Her heart shivered a couple of times then leaped into space, landing at the bottom of her abdominal cavity with a thud. It didn’t quite shatter, but there was definitely a crack or two lining its tough protective surface.

Get real, Sophia. He’s just one more patient in a long list of patients. He’ll be gone in a matter of days or at the most a few weeks.

Maybe it was better if he never remembered her. If she never mentioned their time together at the orphanage.

She attempted small talk as they shuffled back down the hallway. “It’s really bacana that you and your brother found each other after all these years.”

“Bacana?” Lucas stopped for a second to look down at her.

She searched around for an English word that would get across the meaning. “It’s um...cool. Good.”

“Yes. Very cool.” The way his muscles stiffened at her words made her wonder if he really did think it was. But why wouldn’t he? Marcos was a great guy. Besides, now he could get to know his home country. Get to know someone he’d once been close to.

Unlike her, who had no one. Whose parents, although still alive, had left her at an orphanage when she’d been a baby because they hadn’t had the money to deal with her defect—an unfortunate reality in her country.

They’d reached out to her once, when she’d moved into her teenage years, when her government-funded surgery had been but a distant memory, but things had been strained and neither her parents nor her had particularly wanted to pick up the pieces. They’d moved to another part of Brazil by the time she’d reached adulthood, and although she still had their address, she’d never bothered to get back in touch with them. And they’d never contacted her again.

Her downed heart rolled around, reminding her of its presence. Hmm...maybe those cracks in it weren’t so new after all. Maybe, like her lip, they’d healed with barely a trace. Until a hard knock—or the gentle brush of a thumb—had brought back all the reasons she needed to be on guard.

Especially with a man who’d spied what lay beneath her make-up within the space of a heartbeat but hadn’t been able to see beyond it. Lucas had touched her scar back then as well—when it had been fresher and more noticeable. Before she’d learned how to cover it up with the quick flick of her make-up brush.

Surely she’d be able to do the same with her heart. By the time she was done, no one—not even the plastic surgeon by her side—would be able to see through the carefully applied layers.

And that was just the way she wanted it.

CHAPTER TWO

LUCAS HAD JUST perched on the edge of his bed when a buzzing sound came from the nurse’s pocket.

“Oh, sorry. I was expecting your brother to call me this morning between rounds. He wanted to check on you.”

He waved her away. “Go ahead.”

His legs felt like spaghetti, despite his trash talk a few minutes ago at the nurses’ station. He hated feeling helpless. Hated being at someone else’s mercy.

Something about that fact tickled the back of his subconscious. A memory he couldn’t quite grasp no matter how hard he tried.

Sophia pulled the phone from her pocket, her eyes still on his as she checked the readout. “It’s Marcos. I’m sure he’ll want to say hi.”

Answering the phone, her eyes sparkled as she chatted with his brother, asking him about how things were going in the States. Something he said made her laugh. “Well, tell Maggie I send my love.”

The way she said those words made a warm current flow through his chest. He hated to admit it, but being back in Brazil wasn’t like he’d expected it to be. Friendships here seemed more intimate somehow, not like the superficial relationships he tended to foster. Or maybe it was because Marcos and Sophia knew each other well...maybe they’d worked together for years.

“Sure. He’s right here.” Sophia pressed the mouthpiece to her shoulder. “He wants to talk to you.”

Lucas held out his hand, waiting as she placed the cellphone in his palm. The instrument was still warm from being in her pocket, and he hesitated before lifting it. Something about knowing she’d breathed into the receiver—had held it close to her lips, made the heat in his chest spread to his gut. It had to be the after-effects of the anesthesia and pain pills he’d had during and after his surgery. They hadn’t completely cleared his system yet. He took a quick breath and held the phone close to his ear, not quite letting it touch his skin.

“Hi, Marcos. How’s it going?” He spoke in English, feeling awkward talking to his brother in Portuguese. After all, he hadn’t even been able to understand a simple slang term the nurse had used.

The medical conference had seemed the perfect venue to visit his home country and learn more about his culture. Unfortunately it had only served to show him how little he knew—it was just one more place he didn’t belong.

His brother’s amused tone brought him back to the present. “Everything’s fine. I thought I’d check and see how the hospital was treating you.” A female voice murmured in the background, and his brother’s response came through muffled, indicating he’d turned his head to answer whoever it was.

He rolled his eyes. Surely Marcos wasn’t actually in bed with his new... Searching for a word, he came up blank, as he wasn’t quite sure what kind of relationship the two had. All he knew was that when he’d introduced himself to Dr. Maggie Pfeiffer at the medical conference, a glare from across the room had hit him like a fist to the jaw. He hadn’t known who Marcos was at the time but he’d recognized that pointed stare. It had said off-limits and mine in no uncertain terms.

He couldn’t blame his brother. Maggie was beautiful, her ready smile showing her love of life.

Not like Sophia, whose prickly attitude a few minutes ago seemed strange, seeing as they didn’t know each other. Maybe she’d had a bad day or maybe she was just that way with everyone. He glanced at her to find her busy straightening things on his bedside table, her scrubs doing nothing to detract from the generous curves beneath them.