The Rebel Doc Who Stole Her Heart
Read The Rebel Doc Who Stole Her Heart Online
Authors: Susan Carlisle
Unbuttoned by the maverick!
Protected by her ice queen facade and wearing her designer suits as armor, heart surgeon Michelle Ross is always in control. Then maverick anesthesiologist Ty Smith sweeps into her operating theater and ruffles her well-groomed feathers!
He is her complete opposite, but even Michelle isn’t immune to his charms—especially when she starts to see the real Ty. She knows that he’ll soon be back on his sleek black motorcycle, out on the road again, but can she stop her heart from leaving with him…?
“Here—let me help you.” Ty lifted the helmet off her head and reached around to release her hair. He could feel her breath on his neck.
Michelle bent her torso away from him. “What’re you doing?”
“Trying to get your head in this helmet. Your hair is stopping it from going on.”
“Oh.”
“What did you think I was doing? Making a play for you?”
“No.”
“Yes, you did.” He looked her straight in the eyes, wishing the streetlights were brighter. “If and when I make a play for you, you won’t need to question what I’m doing. It will be perfectly clear.”
Dear Reader,
I’ve always been fascinated by the attraction between two people. So many times men and women are complete opposites and still find that special spark. A good-looking man and an unattractive woman, or the reverse. The introvert and the extrovert. The super-popular person and the one in the corner. The person who loves adventure and the one who prefers to watch TV. It amazes me how humans manage to pair off.
These extreme differences are what I explore in Michelle and Ty’s story. They couldn’t be more dissimilar and yet they fit—complement each other as if they are puzzle pieces finding their spot. What made writing this book especially fun was watching the two characters squirm as they find that they truly do belong together.
I would be remiss if I didn’t mention and thank Dr. Bruce Miller, who is an anesthesiologist extraordinaire. Much of Ty’s doctoring skills and sensitive interactions with patients were influenced through knowing Dr. Miller and witnessing him in action. I also have to say a big thanks to Dr. Kirk Kanter, a heart surgeon with a big heart. There is none better in the world. Through him I received amazing technical assistance that helped Michelle’s world become real. All doctors should be as good and as dedicated as these two men are to their patients.
I hope you enjoyed reading Michelle and Ty’s story as much as I enjoyed writing it. I love to hear from my readers. You can contact me at
www.susancarlisle.com
.
Susan
THE REBEL DOC WHO STOLE HER HEART
Susan Carlisle
Also by Susan Carlisle:
SNOWBOUND WITH DR. DELECTABLE
NYC ANGELS: THE WALLFLOWER’S SECRET*
HOT-SHOT DOC COMES TO DOWN
THE NURSE HE SHOULDN’T NOTICE
HEART SURGEON, HERO…HUSBAND?
*NYC Angels
These books are also available in ebook format from
www.Harlequin.com
.
Dedication
To Andy, the Mr. Romance in my life.
I love you.
Praise for
Susan Carlisle:
“Susan Carlisle pens her romances beautifully….
Hot-Shot Doc Comes to Town
is a book that I would recommend not only to Medical RomanceTM fans but to anyone looking to curl up with an angst-free romance about taking a chance and following your heart.”
—
HarlequinJunkie.com
on
Hot-Shot Doc Comes to Town
Contents
CHAPTER ONE
H
EART
SURGEON
M
ICHELLE
R
OSS
used her hip to nudge open the swinging door to the number four operating room in Raleigh Medical Center in North Carolina.
Her patient, Mr. Martin, waiting on her to begin repairing his artery, was the type of person that affected her most. There were almost always young children waiting at home for their parent to get better. She had to save this father. Make sure he lived to return to his family.
Dressed in sterile gown and with hands covered in latex gloves, she eyed her team and asked in a crisp voice, “Are we ready to begin?”
The quietly speaking group gathered around the middle-aged patient suddenly became mute. If a scalpel had been mishandled and fallen to the floor it would have echoed in the soundless room.
She looked at each of them and watched as every set of eyes refused to meet her gaze. What was going on? Normally her team was ready to proceed without hesitation. She asked the same question before each operation out of habit.
Glitches weren’t allowed in her OR. Efficiency was her motto. Her patients deserved the best and she saw that they got it. She’d hand-picked her team and they knew what was expected, she trusted them, so what was the issue?
Her team’s unwillingness to answer didn’t alleviate her anxiety over a case that would require her complete attention. She stepped to her place beside the table before her gaze landed on the
anesthesiologist resident
at the head of the patient. “Where’s Schwartzie?” she demanded.
The younger doctor’s eyes flickered a couple of times above the top edge of his surgical mask and he said, “Dr. Schwartz’s replacement isn’t here yet.”
Annoyance blistered in her. Her patient deserved better. She opened her mouth to respond but someone entering the door stopped her. A man with wide shoulders had his back to her. He made an agile pivot and faced the group. A bright orange zebra-striped surgical cap screamed for attention in her sterile and ordered world. The basic blue surgical uniform of the hospital covered his body but what caught her attention again were the glowing lime-colored clogs that shone through the surgical paper booties on his feet.
Who was this clown? All that was missing was the red nose. As he approached the group her focus centered on his striking jade-colored eyes above his mask. Those orbs met hers expectantly, held her gaze before the twinkle in them put her off guard.
Surely this wasn’t her missing anesthesiologist?
“Hey, I’m Ty Smith. I’m filling in for Schwartz.” Despite the mask covering his mouth, she could tell he was smiling as he made eye contact with each person.
“We have a patient waiting,” she said, halting any further pleasantries.
“You must be Dr. Ross,” he stated in a cheerful tone.
“I am. And I’m ready to begin.”
He pulled the stool forward with his foot and sat with one easy movement. He didn’t seem to give her a further thought or show any concern that they had all been waiting for him.
Looking at the resident, he said, “Nicely done.”
The young man who had been so flustered by her question earlier visibly relaxed.
Dr. Smith checked the anesthesia set-up and looked at her. “Ready when you are, Doc.”
Once again his eyes caught her off guard. They reminded her of a spring lawn after a rain they were so green. She couldn’t let him divert her attention from the patient. She never forgot her duty. “It’s Dr. Ross,” she corrected.
“Patient is ready, Dr. Ross.” He said her name with a subtle twist that implied he might be making fun of her.
* * *
Hours later, as she began making the final sutures, Michelle was pleased the procedure had gone without a glitch. Her patient would live a long time and get to see his children grow up. Of that she was particularly proud.
Her father had died of a heart attack when she’d been twelve. They’d been out shopping for new school clothes, something she and her mother hadn’t been able to agree on, when he’d clutched his chest and fallen to the floor of the mall. She could still hear the yells to call 911 and the running of feet, but mostly it was the sound of her own crying that she remembered.
At the funeral, as she’d sat beside her mother in the front pew of the church, she’d vowed that she’d help ensure that as many children as possible never experienced what she had. Her answer had been to study and work hard to become a heart surgeon. Her personal experience had taught her there was no room for humor here. This was serious business.
Michelle was in the process of closing when a soft hum, which began at the head of the table, distracted her. During the operation she hadn’t looked at the new guy. Instead, she had given Mr. Martin her complete attention, even when her surgical resident had been making the opening incision. She glanced toward the head of the table to find Dr. Smith busily studying a monitor. The others around the table shifted restlessly. As far as she was concerned, the OR was no place for music. She wanted nothing to distract their concentration. She’d always seen to it that any noise remained at a minimum.
Tension as thick as the polar icecap and just as cold filled the space. She didn’t miss the covert glances directed her way or towards the humming man.
The new guy looked up, his gaze meeting hers. The lines around his eyes crinkled. “You can join in if you wish.”
The man was too disrupting to her OR. He had to go. She’d see that he wasn’t assigned to her cases again. “How’s the BP?” she asked in a crisp voice.
“Holding steady,” he responded.
“Then let’s finish this up and get him to CICU. And no more humming.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He sounded like a mischievous fourth-grade boy who’d just gotten into trouble for pulling a girl’s hair. Not very sincere and determined to do it again.
* * *
Ty rubbed the back of his neck to ease his strained muscles as he stepped out of the OR. Having traveled most of the night to arrive on time, he was tired. The car accident he’d assisted with at the city limits hadn’t made the situation any better. He didn’t like being late but it couldn’t be helped. He’d been the first one on the scene and it had been necessary to stay. He took his oath as a doctor seriously.
Moving from one place to another didn’t bother him. Heck, he’d done it all his life. That had been one of the problems. His parents had been follow-the-band, sixties wannabe hippies who’d had no business having children but they had. Joey, his younger brother by six years, had needed to stay in one place and have stable medical care but that hadn’t been for his parents. They had sought help from this guru here, a herb there or “If we only lived in the desert climate” Joey could breathe better—get better. They had been wrong. Dead wrong.
His parents had said it was just how it was supposed to be. For him, Joey being alive and pestering him about wanting to follow him somewhere was how it should have been. Sitting on the ground in the middle of the moaning and groaning and incense-smoke rising, Ty had decided that he couldn’t live like that any more.
