Mills & Boon Showcase

He didn’t reply. Before she had a chance, he bent down and picked up the key and used it to unlock the building’s front door. He walked through and held the door open, waiting for her to follow. She didn’t. She stood under the awning, staring at him with a sense of panic that was building at the thought of him in her home.

“Kate, you are wet and probably freezing. Please, just come inside. I promise you can despise me just as much from in there.” His new position in front of her forced her to look at him for the first time and she was immediately drawn to his face and eyes. She recognized his expression of concern and it brought her back to all the other times she had thought Matt cared for her. Familiarity propelled her forward.

Once she was inside the building, the warm air and bright lighting brought Kate back to the present. Matt was tall and overpowering in the small entryway. His hair was damp and had started to curl slightly at the ends. The angle of his jaw and the rigid way he held his shoulders gave Kate some indication that he shared her tension. He had changed out of his business suit but was no less stunning in an open leather jacket and dark blue striped shirt that he had left untucked from the jeans, which hugged low on his hips. His sexual power was breathtaking, and she struggled to get her breath back and gain control of the situation.

Never before had she felt self-conscious about her running clothes. But at this moment she desperately wished to be wearing anything other than the black tights and fitted heather-blue base layer top that provided her protection from the cold, but no modesty, outlining every curve of her body. She crossed her arms across her chest and held out one palm.

“Keys?” she asked, trying to adopt the same tone she used in the operating room when calling for an instrument.

He didn’t yield and her sense of discomfort was replaced by anger. “Not until I’m sure you are okay.”

When had it started to matter whether she was okay or not? It hadn’t mattered to Matt nine years ago, and even though she felt far from okay, she resented his concern.

“I’m not your responsibility, Matt. You don’t get to worry about me,” she ground out. She tilted her head upwards, trying to make up the six-inch difference in their height, and held his gaze.

“Easier said than done,” he sighed, and started climbing the stairs towards the second floor. His long legs took the stairs two at a time and before she could react he was at the top.

Not in her home, she thought. Matt could not go into her apartment, her home. It was her refuge, her place where no memories of Matt existed.

She reacted quickly to this thought, running up the stairs and without thinking, wedged herself between him and the apartment door. He wasn’t ready for her movement and his body followed through on its planned course, causing him to fall against her.

She was pressed between Matt and the door, and she didn’t know which one felt harder against her. She started to shake and felt warmth spread through her, his warmth. She could feel every contour of his chest through his open jacket, his shirt slowly dampening from her wet body. He instinctively widened his stance and braced himself with a hand on the door behind her to keep himself from falling any further forward into her. She ended up nestled between his legs, pelvis to pelvis, his upper body bracing over her.

Instinctively, she pressed into him and felt the hard ridge that was increasing in prominence. Beyond the slow roar that was filling her head she heard a small gasp but couldn’t tell if it came from him or her. She wasn’t sure how long they stood pressed against each other, until she felt him pull away at the same time he brought his forehead down to rest against hers, his eyes closed.

“Why?” he demanded quietly.

“Why what?” she whispered, confused and trying to block out the sense of loss his body’s retreat had caused.

“Why don’t you want me in your apartment? Is it about him? Is Tate Reed in there, waiting for you?” His voice was accusing, each new question seeming more condemning than the next. But he kept asking, not pausing, as though not wanting to hear her actual response.

Tate. Every warm enticing feeling she was having left her and she felt cold again as guilt washed over her. She tried to move even further back but felt the wood of the door against her. Tate loved her, Matt had never loved her, and she felt empty inside, thinking about both men.

“I’m not discussing my relationship with Tate with you and you have no right to ask me,” she whispered, not being able to bring her voice above the intimacy his question had possessed but still containing the outrage she felt. “You need to leave.”

He didn’t reply. He simply lifted his forehead, replacing it with his lips. She felt both heat and memories surge through her before he backed away and pressed her key into her hand. She remained against the door as she watched him leave, not trusting herself to move until he was gone.

She wasn’t sure how long she stood against the door even after he left. She felt like part of the wood, except for the small spot where her forehead burned with the memory of his soft lips pressed against her. It took hearing the beat of her shivering against the door to force her into action. She walked through the apartment in the dark, removing her clothes and leaving them in a wet trail behind her.

She stepped into the shower consumed by the cold inside and out. She had loved Matt then she had hated him, and now she had no idea how to feel. Part of her wanted to act out for the first time in her life and force him to tell her why. Why had he done it? But her instinct for self preservation was stronger. No matter what she had told herself about why Matt had left, it would hurt more to hear him say it aloud. Seeing him today had not only brought out her anger but also unleashed every painful question and feeling of self-doubt she had tried to bury away and forget.

It took the water transitioning to cold before she thought of leaving the shower. She changed into scrub bottoms and a cotton tank top and ate the only thing she had the energy to prepare for supper—toast. It wasn’t long before she was lying on the soft yellow couch cocooned within the gray blanket, trying to focus on her medical textbook and not the memories that kept replaying in her mind.

As a child she had been outgoing and bright, ready to tackle and succeed at every challenge presented to her. She had been fearless with the knowledge that her parents had always been behind her, supporting her and loving her. Then things had changed when she was eleven. Her mother had been diagnosed with breast cancer and for two years everything had focused on her mother and the disease. Kate had watched helplessly as nothing had worked, nothing had made things better, for her mother or her family.

She’d died when Kate was thirteen and from then on her family had no longer existed. She remembered one of their last moments together at the hospice. Her father had been sobbing and with what little energy she’d had her mother had stroked her hair and told her not to cry. And she hadn’t.

Without her, Kate had felt lost, but not as lost as her father had. Kate’s parents had been the loves of each other’s lives, and without her mother Kate’s dad had withdrawn from life and from his daughter. She had lost both parents, one to cancer and the other to depression, which as a thirteen-year-old she’d had no capacity to understand.

Kate’s memories of middle and high school were not normal ones, something she had realized but didn’t have time to care about. She spent those years trying to be the perfect daughter, student, homemaker, and friend to her dad, anything to make him happy, to make him come back to her. She hid every feeling of unhappiness and loneliness away, afraid that her pain would make her father worse and ruin what little they had together. She never discussed her mother and carried her grief alone. Every new womanly feeling or change she experienced she ignored, because it hurt too much to miss the mother she wanted to share those moments with.

Kate was terrified to graduate from high school, knowing that it meant she would have to leave home and her dad. It wasn’t until she arrived at Brown University and had some time on her own that she realized how different she was from the other students, especially the other girls. They all seemed so beautiful and confident and, next to them, she felt completely inadequate and unprepared for life as a woman. She went home every weekend, not just to see her dad but also to escape the weekend social gatherings where she felt so out of place.

This eventually became a comfortable routine that lasted three years, until one weekend she came home and her dad introduced her to Julia. Her father had found love again and for the first time since her mother’s death he was happy. Kate shared his happiness and at the same time felt her feelings of loneliness hit rock bottom.

Watching her father and Julia made her feel even more alone than she had before because they were together, a team, and she had no one. It was no longer necessary for her dad to be her focus in life, and she was now being forced to focus on herself and she didn’t even know who she was or who she wanted to be. All her anxieties and feelings of inadequacy battered her every solitary moment while she continued to play the role of the perfect daughter, stepdaughter and student. Her dedication towards a career in medicine was her only life raft in the storm in which she found herself.

She met Matt three months later and her world changed. She had been studying at her favorite coffeehouse when she glanced up and saw the most attractive man she had ever seen in her life. The glance had easily turned into an irresistible stare. He was tall and broad shouldered with thick dark hair and piercing blue eyes. He was standing beside her table and it took her an embarrassing amount of time to acknowledge to herself that he was talking to her and to figure out what he had said. He asked to share her table, because it had an electrical outlet in the wall beside it for his laptop computer.

Previously, she would have just offered him the table, making some excuse as to why she needed to leave, but she was so drawn in by everything about him that she just managed to say yes and slide her own computer toward her to make space. He thanked her and while he started studying, her mind completely shifted, thinking only of him. He was perfection. His strong jaw was covered with a shadow of stubble that screamed masculinity to her. A gray T-shirt spanned his broad chest so that she could see the outline of every muscle group she had just been studying attentively in her textbook before he’d joined her. His shoulders led to muscular tanned arms and hands that were twice the size of hers. She could imagine the strength in his hands and what it would feel like to be held by him, to feel his jaw brush against hers, to press against his strong frame.

She started and blushed when his voice broke through her thoughts with an offer to buy her coffee. She barely managed to tell him her order without stammering, feeling completely stunned by the most outrageous thoughts she had ever had and insecure with her inexperience.

When he returned to the table with their drinks he didn’t reopen his computer. He introduced himself and she was drawn in by the kindness and genuine interest she saw in his eyes. There was something about Matt that had made her feel instantly safe, and with that feeling grew the confidence she had been lacking. They spent the rest of the afternoon talking and Kate felt more important in those few hours than she had in years.

In the course of their conversation she learned about his long-distance girlfriend and on hearing that felt crushed and disappointed, but still intrigued by the man who already had someone special in his life and was still interested in her, even if she wasn’t girlfriend material. The more they talked the more she liked him and the more she wanted him in her life, no matter what he had to offer.

And that was exactly what followed. At first they would see each other casually, both studying. Matt was pre-law and she was pre-med, which meant they studied a lot. She got used to him joining her on Saturday and Sunday afternoons at the coffee shop, and even had the confidence to join his table when he arrived there first. The only time she didn’t see him was when he went back to New York for a weekend with his family and girlfriend, though he never talked about the visits and she didn’t ask. They eventually started meeting outside of the coffee shop and beyond studying, until they were together several times a week and spoke on the phone daily.

It was hard for her to understand her feelings. Matt was her first university friend, her first male friend, and eventually her best friend. She didn’t know how to sort out what she felt for him as her friend from what she assumed were normal feelings of attraction any woman would have in Matt’s presence. Part of her was actually relieved to be having the same thoughts and feelings about a man that she had heard other women talking about; it made her feel normal.

One Saturday she didn’t show up at the coffee shop, like she normally did. Even though they didn’t have formal plans to meet, Matt came to her apartment early that afternoon to check on her and see why she had been absent from the routine they had perfected over months. She hadn’t expected that. If she had she wouldn’t have answered the door. Instead she answered the door in jogging pants and an oversized sweater, her face red and swollen from hours of crying. He didn’t let her turn him away and on the eighth anniversary of her mother’s death Kate allowed her emotions to show and cried in front of someone else for the first time since her mother had died.

She couldn’t have asked for more in Matt’s response. He held her until her tears subsided and then listened as she talked about her parents and what she had lost. For the first time her feelings didn’t make her feel weak and helpless. Matt made her feel he understood in his responses and desire to listen. They talked for hours and he discussed his own father’s death, which helped her feel normal and less like the poor orphan she had perceived herself to be. When she was finally spent of emotions and words, she fell asleep on her couch, Matt still sitting at the end. She could remember the strength of his arms around her as he picked her up and carried her to her bed, the tenderness and caring as he laid her down and covered her, and the weight of his lips against her forehead as he kissed her good-night. And her last thought as she drifted to sleep was that she was in love with her best friend.

Kate woke to the darkness of the living room lit only by the soft glow of the end table lamp. She struggled to adjust her eyes to the lighting and the reality of her surroundings. She wasn’t in her old college apartment and the dreams she’d had of her past had been just that, dreams, followed by a harsh reality. She glanced over at the clock on the microwave—four o’clock in the morning. No hope of getting back to sleep, she thought.

She stretched; her neck had a kink in it from falling asleep on the arm of the couch and her legs ached from pushing too hard on her run, but she was also acutely aware of the deep ache and warmth in her pelvis. She could still feel the memory of Matt’s lips against her forehead, his body pressed against hers, and the feel of him wanting her, both past and present. It made no sense. She cringed, thinking about the last time she had felt that need from him and the disaster and complete and utter devastation she had felt afterwards.

Anger overtook her as her feet hit the cold wooden floor and she walked towards her bedroom. She didn’t want to remember every detail of their relationship and that night. She didn’t want to still feel what it was like to be touched by him. She didn’t want to still feel the pain of rejection and betrayal. She didn’t want to feel anything for Matt McKayne.

CHAPTER THREE

THIRTY HOURS INTO her shift Kate’s pager blared through her dictation as she described the detailed steps she had taken to resect the necrotic bowel and anastomose the viable segments. She paused in mid-sentence, her usual rhythm interrupted by the reminder tone that followed. She pressed the pager’s recall button and the hospital switchboard extension flashed back at her.

Dread filled her. She was between surgical cases and had two consultations in the emergency department to review. One more interruption and there would be no chance of getting to the washroom between cases. She had long ago given up the hope of eating any time soon and sleep was like a mirage in the desert to her.

She signed off the dictation and dialed the digits she knew by heart.

“It’s Dr. Spence from General Surgery. I have an outside call.”

“Yes, Dr. Spence, I’ll put him through.”

“Kate, it’s Matt, we need to talk.” She had been correct with her feeling of dread. Years ago those words would have changed her world, but now they left her with a sense of foreboding.

“Why are you calling me?” The question didn’t make sense as he had already stated his intentions, but it was the first thought that came to mind. Why? Why was he back?

He sighed and she sensed his impatience. Tough, she thought. “Kate, we need to discuss the details of the case, the sooner the better.”

The case, of course he wanted to talk about the case. How could she have forgotten the lawsuit? It was threatening to destroy her career and now was wreaking havoc on her personal life as well. She had received notification from the New York Medical Board that her medical license for the state was on hold and would not be granted until the lawsuit was resolved. No license meant no hospital privileges, which meant no fellowship for Kate. Everything she had worked for was now in Matt’s hands. Even with that in mind, she wasn’t ready to face Matt again. She couldn’t guarantee he would stick to the script of the present, and the past was too much to add to her fragile state of mind.

“I don’t have any spare time, Matt.” It was true.

“Make time, Kate, or I’ll make it for you.” It didn’t sound like a threat, more like a fact, and something she knew he was capable of following through on. If they lost the lawsuit she was going to find it next to impossible to find employment anywhere else and she couldn’t afford to burn her bridges with the hospital administration who had already warned her they expected her full co-operation.

“I’m not working this weekend.” She dragged the words from herself like a confession.

“Let’s meet Saturday afternoon. Do you have a preferred café you go to?”

No, she thought. There was no place she would prefer to meet with Matt. She needed to keep focused on what his new role was in her life, and the lawsuit. “We can use one of the hospital boardrooms.” She had perfected her professional veneer within the hospital and if she had any hope of maintaining it with Matt, it would be here at the hospital.

“I’ll see you Saturday at two. Goodbye, Kate.” Such a simple word, but it wasn’t goodbye.

Matt strode through the halls of Boston General on his way to meet Dr. Reed. Half of his attention was spent looking for Katie, Kate, the other half trying to decide whether he could truly represent Tate Reed. As a lawyer his job was to act in the best interests of his clients, but how could he do that for the man who had the one thing in life he wanted—Kate. One thing he did know, legally, if not personally, was that Tate and Kate were in this as a pair, and if he wanted to represent her then he had to agree to defend Tate Reed as well. And he needed to defend Kate.

Matt found the department of general surgery and made his way towards Tate’s office. Along the wall of the main corridor hung the yearly photographs of everyone who had been in the residency training program. Matt stopped and examined the last five years. Kate was in all the photos, each year changing just slightly, but enough that between the first and last photos she appeared to have become not only more beautiful but more confident and mature.

He moved to the closed door with Dr. Reed’s name on it and knocked louder than he’d intended. It also took longer than he expected before Dr. Reed opened the door. As he stepped into the office he was surprised to see a beautiful red-headed woman standing in the center of the room.

“Matt McKayne, this is Chloe Darcy. Chloe is in Emergency Medicine here at Boston General,” Tate said by way of introduction. “Chloe, Matt is a lawyer specializing in medical defense and has been hired by the hospital to represent Katherine and I in the lawsuit.”

Chloe looked at him appraisingly. “Nice to meet you.” She reached out and shook his hand. “Are you any good?”

Matt was surprised by the question and instantly liked her. “I’m very good, Dr. Darcy.”

“Call me Chloe, and I am very happy to hear that. The last thing Kate needs is for this to drag on.”

“You know Dr. Spence?” he asked, trying to sound professional while struggling to understand the network of relationships going on around him.

She smiled. “I know Kate probably better than anyone. I’ve been her best friend for the past nine years.”

So Chloe Darcy was Kate’s best friend and she knew her better than anyone, but apparently knew nothing about him. He assumed that because she showed no signs of hostility towards him. Tate, who, it seemed, had replaced him in Kate’s life, also didn’t seem to have any knowledge about their past together.

“Chloe, Matt and I have an appointment. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m not going anywhere,” Chloe stated flatly. Both men watched as she left the room, closing the door a little too forcefully for it to have been accidental.

“Have a seat.” Tate gestured to one of the two chairs opposite his large wooden desk and returned to his position behind the desk. He was taking charge and Matt let him. The more in control Tate felt the less likely he was to be defensive and hold things back from him. He had a lot of questions and not all of them were professional.

“I won’t waste your time or mine, Dr. Reed,” Matt opened, looking at him directly.

“I appreciate that. Call me Tate.” He returned the challenge in his gaze, and Matt grudgingly respected the man for not backing down.

“I have thoroughly reviewed the file, as have our medical experts. The unanimous opinion is that Mr. Weber’s condition was not survivable. He would not have survived even with immediate medical attention. My concern is that if this case goes to a jury they will not appropriately focus on that fact.” Matt waited for his reaction.

“What is it exactly you think will be distracting them?” Tate questioned, examining Matt as intently as he was being examined. Tate was trying to gauge what Matt did and did not know, and in that moment Matt knew he was right about the nature of the relationship between Tate and Kate.

“Your relationship with Kate Spence,” he responded and then in silence waited for the other man to give him the details he unwillingly craved.

“I don’t have a relationship with Katherine Spence,” Tate stated coldly.

Matt recognized the defensiveness in Tate’s tone and decided to change tactics before Tate completely shut down. “Why do you refer to her as Katherine when everyone seems to call her Kate?”

“Old habit, I guess. The rhyming of Kate and Tate is too nauseating. Either way, it won’t be an issue for much longer.”

“Why not?” Matt asked, still searching for answers and what Tate was not saying.

“Katherine, or Kate, will be moving to New York in the summer to start her fellowship in breast oncology and reconstruction.”

Matt processed the information. He remembered the afternoon he’d found her crying in her apartment. He had never before felt so helpless. It hadn’t been that he had never seen a woman cry—his mother and sister were known for their histrionics—but Kate had been crying from a genuine feeling of pain and not as a means of manipulation. Her career choice made perfect sense and he wondered if it was the one thing she needed to be able to finally make peace with her mother’s death. If it was, he wasn’t going to let anything stand in her way.