The MD's Mistress / The Money Man's Seduction: The MD's Mistress

Two

Two days later, Becca was still in the hospital, in bed, with pneumonia. Her cough had subsided, and yet she still felt weak. As much as she hated to admit it, if only to herself, Dr. Andrews was right in having her shipped home. And she had no intention of admitting it aloud, especially to him.

Seth.

His name swirled inside her mind, along with an image of him as he had looked the last time she had seen him, right before the attendants had slid her gurney into the ambulance.

He hadn’t looked good. Becca couldn’t help but wonder if he also had pneumonia, or was simply exhausted. Either case was worrisome. It didn’t fit with the image she carried in that secret place in her heart.

To Becca, Seth Andrews was the most attractive and sexy man she had ever met. Over six feet tall, lean and rangy, although not as lean as he had grown lately, he exuded a calm self-confidence and a raw sensuality. Becca couldn’t have missed the hungry glances he’d received from the other nurses, as well as female doctors, merely by walking along a hospital corridor or stopping by a nurses’ station.

And he was the only man she had ever seen with dark-amber eyes. Too bad those eyes never glanced at her with anything other than irritation or impatience.

Becca sighed, thinking it was also too bad she had felt, if not actual love, then a deep infatuation.

She sighed again, afraid the emotion was the former and not the more personally acceptable latter. One hopefully recovered more quickly from infatuation.

Into her disquieting thoughts, Becca was unaware of someone entering the room, until a familiar voice jarred her alert.

“Are you awake?”

Trying to contain the shiver dancing down her spine, Becca reluctantly opened her eyes.

“Yes, I’m awake.” She was rather proud of the calm tone she had managed, considering he looked better if not completely well. He had had his hair trimmed, and the wavy mass gleamed in the sunlight that poured into the room.

“How are you feeling?” Coming to a stop beside the bed, he lifted her wrist to take her pulse.

“Rested, a bit stronger,” she said, thinking she felt strong enough to gobble him up with a spoon. Shocked by the thought, she quickly asked, “How are you feeling?”

Seth was staring at her blood pressure and heart rate monitor. “A lot better,” he said, frowning as he slid his glance from the screen to her face. “Your pulse and heart rate are a little rapid.”

Damn. Becca blurted out the first thought to zip through her mind. “I was dozing. You startled me.” She held her breath, wondering, hoping he bought her excuse.

“That explains it then.” He shot another look at the screen. “Heart rate’s leveling.” With a flourish, he waved a newspaper in his left hand that she had failed to notice because of her focus on him. “You’ve made the headlines.”

Becca blinked. The headlines? What…? She frowned “I don’t understand.”

“You’re a celebrity,” he said, holding the paper up so she could see the article. “At least, you’re one below the fold.” He handed the folded paper to her, the bottom half displayed.

There it was, under the heading of the article, her name and a picture of her being carried to the helicopter on the litter.

Pennsylvania Nurse a Heroine in Africa

Becca quickly scanned the article, then went back to reread it more carefully. The contents described in detail her experience, both in nursing before volunteering to go to that small village in Africa, and her service there until she was airlifted home, exhausted and ill. When she had finished reading it the second time, she looked up at Seth Andrews in bewilderment.

“Where?” Shaking her head, she frowned. “How? Why? Who?” Becca’s voice shook with emotion. She didn’t consider herself any kind of heroine.

“I don’t know who gave out the story,” he said, anger edging his voice. “I had asked Shakana to request the transport.” A small, cynical smile touched his tight lips. “I now realize she ratted me out, but I find it hard to believe she would have alerted the media, as they say, about you and your condition.”

“No, she wouldn’t have,” Becca said with absolute conviction. “Shakana and I are friends.”

“I am and was always well aware of that,” he said in a soothing tone, because it had to be obvious she was very upset. “No, it was either leaked here or at the jumping-off site in Israel.”

“But the picture was obviously taken in Africa, as I was being lifted onto the helicopter.” Becca frowned. “Where did the photographers come from?”

Seth shrugged. “Who knows? It seems these days they are everywhere.”

Her frown deepening, Becca looked at the paper again. “I don’t like this. I’m not brave. I’m not a heroine.” Her voice rose as she slipped into a full rant. “They had no right…now I know how celebrities feel. It’s an invasion of privacy, my privacy—”

“Becca…” His voice was low, soothing. It didn’t stop her flow of angry words.

“I feel foolish. I’m a nurse, dammit! Nurses are supposed to care for people. If I’m a heroine, then every nurse in the world doing their job is a heroine. I…”

“Becca,” he repeated, his voice stronger, almost commanding. She appeared not to hear him.

“I want a retraction,” she railed on. “Or at the least, recognition of the good work being done by nurses everywhere.” She finally paused to draw breath. Seth struck before she could say another word.

He shut her up very effectively by bending over the bed and covering her mouth with his own.

Becca went stiff at the gentle touch of his lips on hers. Giving a half sigh, half groan, he deepened the kiss as his lips went firm, draining the stiffness from her body and infusing softening warmth.

Becca’s body melted against his chest.

Seth slid his arms beneath her to lift her, holding her closer to his hard body.

Her head spinning with sensations, Becca raised her trembling hands to grasp his shoulders, clinging to him, lost in the wonder of the shiver-inducing heat of his mouth, the flicking touch of the tip of tongue. His mouth was demanding, his tongue tormenting.

Within an instant she was hot, burning for him with all the secret passion locked inside her. Tightening her grasp on his arms, she arched in need of getting closer, closer to the heat radiating from him.

A soft cry escaped her when he released her mouth and drew back.

“I’m sorry,” Seth said, his voice harsh, his expression stern. Shaking his head, he stepped away from the bed. “That won’t happen again.” A wry smile eased his tight expression. “It was the only way I could think of to shut you up.”

He had kissed her to shut her up? Appalled by his reasoning, Becca could do no more than stare at him.

“You were getting too worked up over the newspaper article. It wasn’t good for you in your condition.”

And being kissed like there was no tomorrow was good for her? Becca wondered. Blinking in confusion, she refused to recognize or let the tears stinging her eyes fall.

“I’m tired.” It was all she could think of to say to him. “I’d like to rest now.” There was no way she would admit to him her utter devastation.

For an instant, he looked as if he wanted to say something, then he shrugged and turned away. When he reached the doorway, he glanced back at her. “I’ll be back to check on you tomorrow morning.”

Becca wanted to protest, call out to him not to stop by, but it was too late. He was gone. She could picture him, striding down the corridor, utterly unaware of the tentative smiles and longing glances sent his way.

Calmer now that Seth was out of the room, Becca replayed in her mind those few magical moments he had held her in his arms, and taken command of her mouth.

She sighed with the same kind of longing so many other women felt for him. And she had thought to call him back, tell him not to stop by the next morning? Ha! She couldn’t wait to see him again…fool that she was!

The next moment, Becca frowned. She couldn’t believe he had actually explained away his kissing her as the only way he could think of to shut her up. That had to be the most overused, clichéd line in romance fiction. Either the man secretly read too many romance novels, which she seriously doubted, or he had never read any, which she felt certain was the case.

Poor Seth. He didn’t even realize he was clichéd and outdated with his approach with women.

Becca couldn’t control a small smile at the thought. The sizzling way he kissed, Seth didn’t have to worry about his statements being outdated. Hell, he really didn’t need to speak at all.

Drowsily, Becca savored the lingering taste of Seth on her lips. His tongue had done a thorough job of teasing the inside of her mouth. The memory triggered a shivery sensation on every nerve ending in her overheated body.

What would making love with him be like?

She quivered at the very idea, before pulling herself together. Get a grip on your imagination, Rebecca, she chided herself in frustration.

Seth Andrews is not interested in you in any personal way. She grimaced. Matter of fact, he very likely did kiss you to shut you up!

Damn you. Standing in the corridor not far from Rebecca’s room, Seth berated himself for the third, or maybe the fourth time since walking out moments ago. He stared at her chart, as if studying her stats.

What in the world had he been thinking, kissing her the way he had? Admitting to himself he had kissed her because he had wanted to for so long, Seth refused to excuse himself for acting so precipitously. He had had no right to simply grab her and kiss her.

Oh, but she had tasted so good, even with the hint of coffee on her tongue. He had wanted to taste her ever since she had become a member of his surgical team.

And now he had…and almost wished he hadn’t. Becca had tasted like heaven, and Seth wanted another taste. No, he wanted to own her mouth, have it for himself alone, have her for himself, all to himself.

The mere thought of having Becca, making love to her, shot tongues of fire through Seth’s body, directly to the most vulnerable part of his being.

A shudder of hungry desire brought Seth to his senses, to what he was and where he was.

He was a doctor, a surgeon, standing in the hospital corridor fiercely aching for a woman…no, not just any woman, a certain woman.

Rebecca.

Merely thinking her name moved him. He made a half turn to go back into her room, when he caught himself short. What the hell was he doing?

Seth was tempted to laugh. He was driving himself crazy over one kiss, that’s what he was doing.

Not too smart, Andrews, he chided himself, as he strode down the corridor, immune to the speculative sidelong glances following his every step.

True to his word, as he always appeared to be, Seth entered her room as Becca was finishing her breakfast. Without asking, he examined the contents of the tray, taking note of what she had eaten.

“You didn’t drink your juice.”

“I don’t like grape juice,” she muttered in annoyance. Who did he think he was anyway?

Seth raised his eyebrows and observed wryly, “I see you drank all your coffee.”

“I do like coffee.” She gave him her sweetest smile. “Matter of fact, I’ve asked for a second cup.”

His gaze lingered on her lips for an extra moment. Becca was hard put not to shiver in response to the heated look she thought she saw in his eyes.

Ridiculous. She rejected the very idea. Seth Andrews giving her a heated look? Yeah, right.

“You have company.”

His remark scattered her thoughts, silly as they were. “I have company? Who?” She couldn’t imagine. Her parents had retired to a lovely retirement complex in the region around Williamsburg, Virginia. Her sister, Rachael, lived and worked in Atlanta. How would they have known she was back in the States from Africa…?

That damn newspaper article.

“Do you want to see them?”

His voice, now edged with impatience, once again broke into her thoughts.

“Yes, of course I want to see them,” she said, every bit as impatiently. “When did they arrive?”

“Yesterday.”

Yesterday? Becca frowned. “But, why didn’t I see them then?”

“You weren’t allowed company yesterday.”

“You—”

“No,” he said, cutting her off. “Not me. Pulmo nary. Dr. Inge decided you needed more time.”

Becca sighed. “The head honcho of Pulmonary.”

“I see you recall the staff here.” He smiled. As slight as it was, his smile went straight to her heart and lungs. She started coughing.

In the next instant, he was pressing the cold stethoscope against her chest. Without speaking, or asking, he lifted her up once again, this time to press the cold instrument to her back.

“Deep breaths.”

“I only swallowed the wrong way,” she lied, grabbing at the first excuse to enter her empty head.

“Uh-huh, don’t talk, deep breaths.”

Becca didn’t need to be told again; she knew he wouldn’t give up until she followed his order.

“Well?” she asked, when he lowered her back onto the bed. “It’s clear, isn’t it?”

“Yes, fortunately.”

She eyed him suspiciously. “Why…fortunately?”

“Because, if there had been the lightest hint of a rustling sound,” he answered in a stern tone, “I’d have sent your company packing until tomorrow…maybe.”

She heaved a dramatic-sounding, long-suffering sigh. “Since there wasn’t, may I see my family now? Please,” she muttered through clenched teeth.

“Sure.” With that too breezy reply, he sauntered from the room.

If Becca had had something heavy at hand, she’d have hurled it at his head.

Moments later, Seth ushered Becca’s parents and sister, Rachael, into the room. “Keep an eye on the time,” he said, before walking away.

Becca might have frowned, maybe called out a question to him, but she was caught up in being hugged by her parents and sister, hugging back while tears filled her eyes and overflowed onto her cheeks. As her mother and sister clung to her, her father stood by, holding her hand, as if to say, I’m here.

Crying, laughing, everyone spoke at once.

“How did you know…?” Becca began.

“Dr. Andrews called minutes before we saw the article in the paper,” her mother answered.

“I learned about it on the TV news, and then Mom called me,” Rachael said.

Becca was appalled. “It was on the TV news?”

“Yes.” Rachael nodded, grinning. “Prime time, both network and cable.” Her grin grew into a quick laugh. “You’re a genuine heroine.”

“But I’m not,” Becca protested. “I’m no more a heroine than any other nurse.” Her voice rose in agitation. “If I’m a heroine, then so are they!”

“Calm down, honey,” her father murmured soothingly, squeezing her hand. “Do you want us to get thrown out of here?”

Shocked by his question, Becca glanced up at him as her mother and sister released their hold and stepped back. “Thrown out?” she yelped. “What do you mean? Why would you be thrown out?”

“The good doctor warned us not to upset you,” her father said, annoyed. “As if we would deliberately do or say anything to upset you.” He stared at her, visibly concerned. “How are you feeling, honey?”

“I’m okay, really,” she quickly declared when he appeared skeptical. “I’m still a little tired, but my lungs are clear and I feel okay.”

“You look more than a little tired, Rebecca,” her mother said, frowning at her.

Becca sighed, but she had to agree. “Yeah, I know. I saw myself in a mirror for the first time this morning. I know I look like death warmed over.” And at the time, she had wondered what had prompted Seth to kiss her. She looked a mess. Oh, that’s right, she recalled. How could she forget? He kissed her to shut her up.

“Don’t even say such a thing,” he mother said, bringing Becca’s flashing thoughts to a sudden stop.

“What?” She blinked, catching up to what she had said. “Well, it’s true, I do look a sorry sight,” she defended herself, fighting a grin. She lowered her voice ominously, and said, “Like the face of death.”

“Rebecca, that is not funny.”

“No?” She gave her mother a wide-eyed, innocent look. “Then why is Dad chuckling, Rachael nearly choking on suppressed laughter, and your lips twitching?”

Her mother tried to look stern, and failed. “You always were a handful,” she said, shaking her head as in despair of her youngest.

Her father’s chuckle deepened and Rachael lost it, laughing out loud.

“And you weren’t much better,” her mother said, switching her mock stern look to Rachael.

Rachael laughed harder. Her laughter was contagious and soon her father and Becca joined in. Finally, her mother gave up trying to appear stern and laughed along with the rest of her family.

It was like old times, the four of them laughing together. They had always been a close-knit unit, and it was obvious they loved her as much as Becca loved them.

“We’ve missed you all these months, Becca,” her mother said, her eyes growing misty.

“I missed you, too,” Becca replied, feeling the sting in her own eyes.

“Are you going back?” her father asked, always the practical one.

“I’d like to.” Becca sighed. “But I really don’t believe I’ll be allowed to go.”

Rachael took her remark personally. “But…why?” she demanded. “Not that we wouldn’t miss you just as much as we did before, but I could tell from your letters and e-mails that you loved working there. Why shouldn’t you be able to go back when you’re fully recovered?”

“I’ll tell you why.” The low voice came from the doorway.

Becca didn’t need to look to see who it was. Only the sound of that one low voice could send chills skating up and down her spine.

“Why then?” Her mother and Rachael turned in unison to confront Seth Andrews, challenge in both their voices. Apparently, her father was prudently going to wait for an answer before he challenged anyone. Becca smiled as he gave her hand another light squeeze.

“Because,” Seth calmly answered, “Rebecca is too dedicated or too bullheaded to take care of herself. That’s why she was sent home.”

“You sent me home,” Becca corrected challengingly, swallowing when he slid a look at her.

“You’re damn right I did.”

Three

The next day, while absently sipping her lunchtime coffee Becca mulled over the events of the day before, most particularly her family’s reaction to Seth Andrews’s comment about Becca being bullheaded.

Were there angry outcries against his assessment of her? Oh, no, she mused, scowling into her now empty cup. Laughter, each and every one of them. Mother, father and sister agreed with him.

Traitors. The thought wiped the scowl from her lips, replacing it with a smile. It was rather funny, Becca had to agree, at least to herself. Hadn’t the three of them been saying the exact same thing, telling her she was bullheaded, since she was in middle school? Truth be told, they had been saying that before she was out of diapers!

Still…they hadn’t had to agree with the man, wiseass that he was!

Said wiseass picked that moment to stroll into her room, looking far too attractive for her own good.

“Mail call,” he said, holding a cream-colored envelope out to her as he came to stop beside the bed. “And hand delivered, at that.”

“Hand delivered?” She was beginning to frown when the light went on in her brain. “Oh, you mean by you.”

Shaking his head, as if in despair of her, Seth answered, “No, by a delivery man. You know, the kind of person hired to deliver something.”

Condescending jerk, Becca inwardly raged, feeling a need to smack the superior look from his face. But since she was in bed and couldn’t reach it, she plucked the envelope from his hand instead.

The very first thing that struck her was the weight and texture of the paper. Expensive stuff, she mused, sliding a fingernail under the flap. Removing the note from the envelope, she quickly scanned it, softly gasped and slowly reread the contents. It began…

Ms. Jameson,

It’s my pleasure to inform you that due to your sacrifice and dedication in giving of your service to the people of Africa, you have been chosen to be awarded by the person to be known as an admirer.

Your award will consist of the use of a fully equipped cabin in the Appalachian Mountains until you are fully recovered or for as long as you wish to stay. Although directions are included, you will be transported to and from your destination. The cabin will be fully supplied, along with a housekeeper/part-time nurse for your care.

We sincerely hope you are well and hearty again soon. Meanwhile, a telephone number is also listed, in case you need anything at all. Please, do not hesitate to call if you do.

That was it, other than a second sheet with the directions.

“Well, damn,” Becca muttered, once again read ing the missive.

“There’s a problem?”