The Millionaire and the M.D. (5 page)

“So you can take off again?” Gabe asked.

“It's what you wanted.”

“No.” Gabe shook his head. “Amy, you scared the crap out of me.”

“Oh, please.”

“It's true. I care about you.”

“I don't believe you. You've never cared about me.”

“I'll admit we haven't been close. But you're my sister. I love you.”

“That's a lie.” Amy glared up at him. “Mama died because of me. That's what you think. You blame me for it. You've always hated me.”

“That's not true.”

“It is true. You can't stand the sight of me and couldn't wait to leave Texas. If I'd had anywhere else to go, no way would I have come to Las Vegas.”

Gabe dragged his fingers through his hair as he blew out a long breath. “Look, I admit my feelings are complicated—”

“That's just a polite way of saying you hate my guts. Yeah, I stole food because I was hungry. But you're lying about how you really feel. Which one of us is more dishonest?”

Gabe stared at her for several moments, and the anger draining out of him was almost a tangible thing. He finally sat on the bed, weariness evident in the slump of his shoulders and lines in his face.

“You're not right. I don't hate you.”

“Then why did you leave home?”

“You know why. To expand the business in Las Vegas.”

Amy shook her head. “You didn't have to go. You could have sent someone else. But you wanted to get away from me and finally found an excuse.”

“You're wrong, Amy. I didn't leave because of you.”

“Then why?” she demanded.

“It was because of Hannah.”

Hannah? Rebecca dragged her gaze from his sister just in time to see misery darken Gabe's eyes and pain tighten his mouth.

“Oh, Gabe—” Amy put her hand on his arm.

Apparently Rebecca wasn't the only one surprised by the revelation. Who was Hannah? He must have cared deeply about her. So why did he leave her? Or did she leave him? She couldn't imagine any woman leaving him. Gabe wasn't the kind of man who got dumped. The feelings pouring through her were symptoms of something that wasn't good, and she needed this complication like a bad case of the flu. She wanted to leave, but her patient's welfare could depend on understanding their complicated issues.

He covered his sister's hand with his own. “The memories were too much. I was finally going to marry her, Amy. Finally after wanting it for so long, we were so close to having it all. So close to—” His jaw clenched and a muscle jumped in his cheek.

“I loved her, too.”

He looked up. “Yeah?”

“She was like a big sister.”

“I don't hate you, but I resented you a lot,” he said. “Losing Mom was hard.”

Amy swallowed and her mouth trembled. “At least you had Mama for a while. I just had pictures. I never knew her at all.”

Gabe stared at her, then nodded. “I guess I'll have to tell you about her.”

“I'd like that,” Amy said.

And Rebecca liked being right. Amy's pregnancy was turning out to be a bridge to a new understanding.

And, speaking of understanding, she wanted to know more about Hannah. God help her.

Gabe lifted Amy's hand—an awkward, almost rusty movement—then cradled it between his own. “This is the honest truth. I came to Las Vegas because I didn't know how to live in a world without Hannah. It was too hard living in a place that had her fingerprints all over it. Texas had too many memories, and I couldn't stay there without the only woman I'd ever love.”

Hannah died? They'd been talking in the past tense, but she assumed the relationship had fallen apart. It had, but for reasons that were so much worse than what she'd imagined.

Rebecca took it back. She didn't want to know this.

At the same time her heart went out to him while her respect and admiration soared. And wasn't that ironic?

She didn't want this attraction and now she knew it could only ever be one-sided. How stupid was she?

She was surprised that her impression of him had been so wrong. Gabe Thorne wasn't the kind of man who walked away. He was capable of a love so deep that he couldn't bear the reminders of the woman he would never see again.

Rebecca should have been relieved, but she wasn't.

G
abe stayed with Amy until she went to sleep, then stepped outside for some air. It was late. And cold. But the cold in his heart trumped Mother Nature. He sat on the stone bench overlooking the reflection pool of Mercy Medical's serenity garden and waited for it to work, but serenity didn't come. He rested his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands between them. If anyone saw him, they'd think he was praying. They'd be wrong.

He never prayed. Not anymore.

His mother would be ashamed of him if she weren't gone, too. She'd been taken so unexpectedly, he'd never had a chance to pray. It was different with Hannah. He'd prayed for her with everything spiritual he'd had in him. On the corner of Matlock Avenue and Country Club Drive in Mansfield, Texas, he'd held her hand while the first responders worked obsessively to free her from the wreckage of her little car. Because he couldn't do anything else, he'd prayed that she wouldn't leave him. But God ignored him.

Then he'd begged for the life of their baby girl so at least a part of Hannah would be with him. But God ignored that prayer, too. So now he didn't pray at all. It seemed safer, since he didn't think he could stand loving and losing anyone else.

Speaking of anyone else, he heard footsteps behind him and knew who was there before he glanced over his shoulder. Rebecca.

She looked like an angel, with the outside lights backlighting her, glinting off her hair and turning it into a halo. It had been a big mistake to let her ride along when he'd looked for Amy. There'd been a split second when he'd needed her, an instant when he'd been glad he wasn't alone anymore. He hadn't planned to talk about Hannah, and now he felt raw inside. The last person he wanted to see was Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm.

“I'd like to be alone,” he said.

“I figured that.” She sat down beside him and looked at the pool.

He stared at her for several moments and didn't much like the feelings he was feeling when he did. “By definition,
alone
means no one else around. Solitary. By yourself.”

“I know what
alone
means.”

“Right. Because you're smart.”

“Yeah. I am.”

“If you were really smart, you'd take the hint and go away.”

She glanced at him, then back at the reflection pool. “No.”

“No?” He blinked. “No?”

“No.”

“Why?” he asked.

“That's a very good question. Unfortunately, I don't have an answer. Except to say that I've never seen anyone who looked more in need of a hug than you do right now.”

“A hug? That's your professional medical opinion?”

“It's good therapy. Never underestimate the power of a healing touch.” She met his gaze. “Or a sympathetic ear. Don't knock it till you've tried it.”

“My sister is your patient, Doctor. Not me.”

“That's true. But I can't turn away when I see someone in pain. Talk to me, Gabe.”

Sympathy swirled in her big brown eyes and seemed to pull him in. Really what did it matter? She'd already heard most of it anyway.

“Don't say I didn't warn you.”

“I'd be happy to sign a waiver of responsibility.”

Smart aleck, he thought.

Then he sighed and said, “I don't know when it happened, but I can't remember a time when I didn't love Hannah.”

Beside him Rebecca moved, stretched her shoulders as if they'd suddenly tensed. He felt her gaze on him before she said, “Go on.”

It didn't seem like there was more to say, but the words started pouring out. “The O'Neills—Hannah's family—lived next door. Her brother, Jack, was—is—my best friend. He's also my partner here in Las Vegas.”

“Were the memories too much for him, too?”

“We never talked about it. When the hospital expansion came up, and along with it the opportunity to build two more Mercy Medical campuses, the deal was too good to pass up.”

“And gave you a chance to escape the memories.” There was an edge to her voice.

Until now. “Hannah was younger than Jack and me, but always tagged along. We watched out for her until we went away to college. After graduating, I went to work in the family business and waited for her to grow up so I could marry her.”

“What happened?”

“It seemed our timing was off. She went away to college and fell in love with someone else. Married him.”

“What did you do?”

“Moved on. Dated. But there was no one special. She was the one for me.”

“But she was married.”

“Until it fell apart. Then she came home.”

“And you reconnected?”

“It was so much more than that. I was a man on a mission. By some miracle I got a second chance. I wasn't going to let her get away again.” He remembered how long it had taken him to convince her they should get married. “Hannah was worried about making another mistake. She didn't want everyone to point and call her the diva of divorce. But I finally wore her down.”

Thanks to her pregnancy. Hannah was seven months along when his campaign of charming dedication finally paid off. She suddenly decided she didn't want their baby born out of wedlock. But he couldn't say that. He'd ripped his guts out a while ago and it still hurt too much to talk about the baby.

“But she died before the wedding,” Rebecca said quietly.

Like a surgeon's scalpel, the straightforward statement sliced clear to his soul. “The night before,” he clarified and heard Rebecca's gasp.

“Oh, God, Gabe. How?”

“Car accident,” he said simply, although there was nothing simple about it. “After the rehearsal dinner. I wanted to drive her home, but she refused. Something about the groom not seeing the bride before the wedding. She wanted to do everything right.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “But everything went horribly wrong. I insisted on following her home. I had a front-row seat when that car ran a red light and broadsided her. I was there when they used the jaws of life to get her out and I went in the ambulance when they took her to the hospital. She died a short time later.”

She put her hand on his arm. “I'm so sorry, Gabe—”

“Don't.” He held up a hand as the familiar anger and pain welled up inside him. “Just don't. I'm sick of that. Her family's sorry. Mine is sorry. No one is sorrier than me. And the bitch of it is, sorry doesn't help.”

He glared at her and felt like the bastard who drop-kicked a kitten. He'd had a lot of practice pushing people away and he was good at it, but regret flashed through him that he'd been a bastard to Rebecca. Then she did the most unexpected thing. Without saying anything, she moved closer and put her arms around him. He tensed, started to pull away, but she moved closer and tightened her hold. Words didn't help, but the warmth, soft and sweet, seemed to melt the ice inside him. She felt so damn good, and he missed a little of the warmth when she pulled back a bit and met his gaze.

“I know nothing can make it better, Gabe, but a touch can be healing. A little hug can't hurt.”

Maybe not, but it could be dangerous. She was so beautiful, her lips so close, soft and perfect and there for the taking. Wanting her so badly made a mockery of what he'd just told her about Hannah. Finally the temptation was too much.

Gabe stared into her eyes as he slowly lowered his mouth to hers. It was a searingly sweet kiss that ignited a fire in his belly and sizzled through his blood as he slid his arms around her and pressed her to him. The feel of her against him drove out rational thought along with memories of the woman he'd loved. This was here, now, real and made him want as he hadn't wanted for a very long time.

He was sucked into a storm of sensation. The soft sound of her sigh. The feel of her slender body pressed to the hardness of his. The sweet taste of her skin as he nibbled the corner of her mouth, across the curve of her cheek and down to the underside of her jaw. She was like a feast after an eternity of famine and incited a hunger deep inside.

Gabe settled his hands on her arms, his intention to set her away from him. Instead he cupped her face in his hands, overwhelmed by the exquisite softness of her skin, the golden silk of her hair brushing the backs of his hands. When he touched his lips to hers again, the kiss turned tender and that was his undoing. Hot he could do. That he could understand. But deep and caring was beyond him.

He lifted his head and dropped his hands, severing the connection while dragging air into his lungs. Then he let out a long breath. “I didn't mean to do that. I'm sorry.”

“Sorry doesn't help.” There was a hint of hurt bruising her eyes as she stood and turned away.

Gabe watched her walk back into the hospital. He should have said or done something more, but what? He'd warned her and she insisted on staying. She'd initiated the hug that pushed him over the edge. The thing was—he did feel better, but it had less to do with the embrace than that lead-me-into-temptation kiss.

He hadn't meant to hurt her, but he was glad she'd walked away, because now he knew he could want someone again. It was a warning and he didn't plan to ignore it.

Chart in hand, Rebecca walked into Amy's hospital room. “How's the patient?” she asked.

“Ready to climb the walls.”

“Okay. Spirit plus sass equals attitude. Situation normal. And a very good sign.”

Amy huffed out a breath. “I'm glad
you're
happy. Me? I'm going bonkers in here. There's no one to talk to. Gabe promised to drop by and see me, but he hasn't. I called him a little while ago and left voice mail. It's not like he's far away. That portable he uses for his office is right outside in the parking lot.”

Rebecca was all too aware of that. And him.

The potential for a Gabe sighting was never far from her mind because that little portable he used for an office was practically close enough to hit with a rock.

“He's probably very busy, Amy.” Rebecca moved farther into the room and stood at the foot of the bed. “The hospital construction is a lot for him to deal with.”

“And now me.” Hostility and resentment snapped in her voice. And hurt simmered just below the surface.

“He cares, kiddo. You should have seen how worried he was when he couldn't find you.”

“Really?”

Rebecca nodded. “He tracked me down here at the hospital to see if I'd heard from you. Then we spent the next few hours driving around looking.”

“After last night when we talked, I—” She shrugged. “I guess I was looking forward to him visiting.”

The words tugged at Rebecca's heart. Amy was putting a lot of energy into pretending she didn't care about anything or anyone at the same time she desperately wanted support and love. As a doctor, Rebecca could support her and give her the best possible medical care. But a brother's love could only come from Gabe.

“That's one of the things I'm here to tell you. Visitors won't be necessary because I'm discharging you.”

“Awesome.”

“However—” Rebecca stopped when the teen groaned. “I want your word you're going to take care of yourself. No more running away. No chips and soda for meals. Fruits, vegetables, protein. I want your solemn vow.”

A gleam stole into Amy's eyes. “I'll promise. If you'll do something for me.”

“What?”

“Make Gabe come and get me out of here now.”

“I'm sure he'll be here as soon as he can, to take you home. Relax. It's not hospital policy to put you on the curb with your suitcase until your ride comes.”

“I know. It's just—I'm anxious to go. No offense.”

“None taken.”

Amy looked intense. “The thing is, he'll listen if you see him face-to-face.”

Face-to-face was the last thing Rebecca wanted. It scared the living daylights out of her after last night. They'd been
face-to-face,
or more accurately, mouth to mouth. And there was no resuscitating going on. Except that wasn't completely true when talking hormones. He had definitely breathed new life into hers.

She shouldn't have let him kiss her. She'd known he was going to and meant to stop him. But she'd been mesmerized into immobility by the intensity in his eyes. She could deny the truth until hell wouldn't have it, but the fact was she'd wanted him to kiss her. In spite of just learning that he would never love again.

She'd never been good at the social stuff. In fact for a while she'd blamed herself for the assault. If she'd had street smarts instead of book smarts, maybe it wouldn't have happened. Eventually she'd understood that it's assault when a guy doesn't take no for an answer. And she definitely hadn't said no to Gabe. He would have respected it; he was a good man. This would be so much easier if he wasn't. How she wished she could trade IQ points for social skills.