He’s a great doctor

Will she make him a better man?

When pediatrician Lauren Peterson becomes a live-in companion to Jake Masters, a reclusive surgeon with an arm injury and attitude problem, she knows it’ll be tough going. Jake is totally disillusioned with the medical profession, so Lauren can’t tell him she’s a doctor. The deception’s easyuntil she falls for the unexpectedly kind heart beneath Jake’s unfriendly exterior. Can the truth give them both a fresh start?

SHIRLEY HAILSTOCK began her writing life as a lover of reading. She likes nothing better than to find a quiet corner where she can get lost in a book, explore new worlds and visit places she never expected to see. As an author, she can not only visit those places, but she can be the heroine of her own stories. The author of forty novels and novellas, Shirley has received numerous awards, including a National Readers’ Choice Award, a Romance Writers of America’s Emma Merritt Award and an RT Book Reviews Career Achievement Award. Shirley’s books have appeared on several bestseller lists, including the Glamour, Essence and Library Journal lists. She is a past president of Romance Writers of America.

Also By Shirley Hailstock

Summer on Kendall Farm

Promises to Keep

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

Healing the Doctor’s Heart

Shirley Hailstock

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-0-008-90093-9

HEALING THE DOCTOR’S HEART

© 2020 Shirley Hailstock

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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Jake’s heart thumped.

He realized he didn’t want her to go. He’d become used to her being there. He even enjoyed their arguments. Sometimes he looked forward to them. But she had to be thinking of returning to work. And why wouldn’t she? He’d taken her suggestions and he was better for them.

“Lauren, if you can postpone going until Cal returns, I’d like that.”

Jake wanted to see Lauren, but he was driving and could only glance at her. She appeared at a loss for words. He didn’t know if she expected him to say what he had. He hadn’t intended to, but he liked talking to her. He liked her more than as a friend, but he couldn’t let it go further than that. He remembered her first day, when she walked into the apartment and had to pry him out of bed. Now here he was asking her not to leave.

Dear Reader,

I’ve always loved masquerade parties, and writing Healing the Doctor’s Heart gave me the opportunity to revisit that game. Lauren had to find a way of cracking the glass Jake had around his heart and her method proved unconventional to say the least.

New York City is also one of my favorite places to visit and I’m blessed to live so close to it. Setting the story there among the varied cultures and street figures that garner tourists’ attention was perfect. But the characters of Lauren Peterson and Jake Masters warmed my heart. They are part of my growing family of people I want to talk to time and time again. I want to know what happens to them next. Do they have children? How does Lauren handle a new baby? The book could go on and on and on, but there are other stories to write.

I’m working on another one right now and hopefully you’ll be ready to read the story of Jake’s brother soon.

Thanks for going on the adventure with Jake and Lauren, and if you’re interested in this and other books I’ve written, you can contact me through my web page or on social media.

Thanks again and as always, keep reading.

Shirley Hailstock

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Introduction

Dear Reader

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Extract

About the Publisher

CHAPTER ONE

DR. LAUREN PETERSON’S feet pounded the New York City sidewalk with the same force as her heartbeat. The point of no return was still ahead. She should turn around, dash down the steps to the subway and go back to the Brooklyn brownstone she was giving up at the end of the month. She still had time. No one would know. No one would be hurt. Disappointed, maybe, but not hurt.

She could almost feel herself doing it, reversing course and heading home, the ghost of her skirt plastered to her legs in the wind as she made her attempt to run away from what she was hurtling toward. The traffic, pedestrians all seemed to crowd around her, slowing her footsteps.

“This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done,” Lauren said out loud. Since her decision was dumb and foolish, she had no problem having people on the street thinking the same about her.

Maybe she should care.

Why had she allowed Caleb Masters to go on interviewing her for that job, especially when she realized Jake Masters wasn’t there? She stopped abruptly and looked at the sky. Two people careened into her and she backed up against a building, accepting their angry looks as she let them pass.

“What was I thinking?” This time her voice was barely above a whisper, since she knew the answer could come from only her own mind.

People around her moved aside, giving her plenty of room. Many looked curiously at her. She was talking to herself without a phone near her mouth or earbud cords streaming down to some concealed electronic device. Thankfully, she was clean, well dressed and carrying shopping bags, but that wasn’t proof that she had all her faculties.

Resuming her steps, Lauren thought of the recent interview with Caleb, only two days ago. She’d gone to it hoping Jake would be there, as well. It was her way of reconnecting with him. They hadn’t met in years. She was going to explain who she was, but that approach changed when the only person in the room was Caleb. She should have left before she made the mistake of asking about Jake, explaining that they went to college together. Caleb’s interest piqued when she said that. Of course, she was Lauren Graves back then. Everyone called her Lori. Caleb then offered her the position. She accepted it and walked away.

And that was the stupid thing.

She objected to his argument that she was perfect for the job after she’d told him she wasn’t a therapist. She was a pediatrician, dealing with children and overanxious mothers.

“He’s seen too many doctors and refuses to see another one,” Caleb said. That’s when he told her he didn’t want Jake to find out her profession.

She should have refused, left the room as fast as her spiked heels would carry her. Lauren didn’t really want a job. Not now. She’d sold her practice. Her plans were to leave New York, move to a small town near the ocean or out west and reestablish her pediatric office. How could she let herself be talked into a job as a nonmedical aide for a man she hadn’t seen in decades and conceal who she was? She was a doctor and proud of it.

And he was a broken man at that.

The schoolgirl crush she’d had on Jake Masters was preoccupying at the time, but she was an adult now, thankful that Jake was ignorant of her prior feelings. As a junior to her freshman in college, Jake didn’t even know who she was. She was sure he wouldn’t recognize her. But she wanted to see him anyway. She couldn’t explain it other than to say she wanted to know if he was still as good-looking as he’d been in college and if that foolish crush she’d had on him was still there.

In the years since she finished school, she’d thought of him in passing, usually when she was online with a school chum, or if she went to a social event with college friends. In medical school, she wondered what he was doing. Once, she’d looked him up on the internet and found a reference that he was entered in a tennis tournament. He’d been good at athletics and she was surprised that he hadn’t pursued that as a line of work.

Until Caleb told her Jake was a trauma surgeon, she wouldn’t have thought the two of them had medicine as a common denominator. Now she was about to find out what else they had in common.

Lauren had reached that imaginary line.

HER HEART THUMPED the moment Jake came out of the office building. Caleb had said he was in. Looking down at the ground, seeing the imaginary line, she hesitated for a long moment, and then watched him moving toward her. Taking a deep breath, she rushed forward, the bags and packages in her hands swinging back and forth as she sped toward some pretend engagement. There were plenty of people on the street. Not only was it the end of the lunch hour, but also the tourists in this section of the city were thick and unpredictable.

Jake’s head was down as he dodged the human traffic coming in all directions. Intentionally, Lauren bumped into him and like an actor on a stage, she bounced back, falling to the ground, her packages scattering everywhere.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, offering his left hand to help her up.

Lauren pulled her belongings close to her as other pedestrians pushed her things back in the bags and handed them to her. Finally, she took Jake’s hand and he levered her up. His hand was soft, but strong, a doctor’s hand. She was surprised at the strength of him. Even though she knew that the loss of use in his right arm had likely strengthened other part of his body, she hadn’t expected to feel so weightless as he pulled her into a standing position.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

She forced herself to breathe hard as she used her free hand to brush any street dirt from her skirt.

“I guess I’ll live. I’m mostly embarrassed. My pride is a little injured but holding. It looks like my shoe bore the brunt of the physical damage.” She hopped on one foot showing him the severed heel of her sandal.

“Let me get you a taxi,” he offered.

She wondered how he was going to do that if he didn’t let go of her and use his left hand to signal for a cab.

“I don’t need a taxi. I’m fine and I live in Brooklyn.”

“The cost will be mine,” he said. “After all, I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

She smiled. “I was walking too fast. How about we settle it with a cup of coffee.” She looked behind him. Several shops, including a coffee bar, an Italian restaurant and a Greek eatery beckoned. “I have a new pair of shoes in one of these bags.” She glanced down, lifting the bags slightly away from her. “I can change inside.”

He looked around, probably noticing the eating places for the first time. Lauren could tell he wasn’t exactly planning to spend any more time with her.

“I don’t usually eat out,” he said.

“I don’t either, but I’m leaving the city soon and I’m trying out some new things before I head into the great unknown.” She gave the last words an uptake of tone. “Come on, have some coffee with me.”

“Well”

She didn’t give him time to refuse. Grabbing his left arm, she propelled him forward. “I’ll even spring for the coffee.”

He allowed her to pull him along, but when she neared the coffee bar, he stopped.

“This one would be more comfortable,” he said. It was the Italian restaurant.

“You like Italian food.” Lauren stated the obvious.

They went in. Lauren did her one-legged hop step as they followed the waiter to a secluded booth. The place was beautifully appointed. She felt as if she’d stepped from a New York street straight into Provence or Naples. Most of the tables were empty. Waiters had already begun preparing them for the dinner crowd. White tablecloths with bud vases holding a single rose, bone china and silverware gleaming in the light.

Luck was still with her as she settled her bags and placed her napkin in her lap. The line was crossed, and there was no going back, yet there were more hurdles for her to jump before she did what she’d been hired to do.

“Have you had lunch?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“They have some very fine food here. It’s all made with fresh ingredients,” he said.

So, he did know about the restaurants in the area. She’d been wrong in that. It was a mistake on her part. She’d have to be more alert in the future or he’d trip her up.

“I suppose that’s how you like your food?” she said, just to have something to say.

He looked her straight in the eye for a long time. Lauren felt as if he was able to see into her mind. Then she realized the string of nurses and therapists he’d had in the past must have asked a question like that.

“You don’t have to cut me with your eyes. I like fresh food too,” she said.

He relaxed a bit. The waiter arrived and they quickly ordered.

“What’s wrong with your arm?” she asked when they were alone again.

“You are certainly direct for someone I only met a moment ago.”

She nodded. “You’re right, especially since we haven’t even exchanged names.”

His expression told her he had yet to think of that small detail.

“Lauren Peterson.” She extended her hand, her left hand.

Jake looked at it and after a moment pulled his hand up and shook hers. “Jake Masters.”

“Now that we’re acquainted, Jake Masters, what’s wrong with your arm?”

“I had an accident.”

“When?”

“I’m not going to play twenty questions with you.”

“Too pushy?” she commented. He’d be amazed if he knew the shy, quiet college kid she used to be still lurked inside her. She was great with children, but it took a lot of courage for her to deal with adults who weren’t the parents of her patients. And romantic relationships were out of her league ever since her divorce. “I’m sorry. I’m used to asking questions.”

“Really, what do you do?”

His speech was very formal and he sat up straight in his seat, coming only short of folding his hands in front of him like he was in the third grade. Jake wasn’t as warm and welcoming as his brother, and it made Lauren feel as if she was in another job interview.

“At the moment, I’m between careers.”

“What did you do in your last career?”

She stared at him. “Arm surgery,” she said.

A long moment went by and then he grunted. It wasn’t a laugh, but a sound that told her he didn’t believe her for a New York minute.

“And what are you going to do in your new career?”

“Now who’s asking a lot of questions?” She paused. “Anyway, I haven’t decided where to go yet. I’m looking at someplace close to the ocean. I’ve always liked the sea. I feel calm there. In the meantime, maybe I could work for you. Of course, it would be temporary.”

“And why do you think I need someone to work for me?”

The waiter interrupted them with their meals. When he left, Lauren returned to the conversation.

“Because you’re in pain and I know something about pain.”

“How do you know I’m in pain?”

“By the way you’re holding your shoulder.” At that he shifted, but didn’t truly relax. “And by the way you clench your teeth until it eases.”

She picked up her fork and took a bite of the seafood fettuccine she’d ordered. Closing her eyes at how wonderful it tasted, Lauren savored the pasta and sauce. She didn’t often cook her meals with all fresh ingredients. She didn’t have time. She remembered visiting her sisters and her parents. They always had catch-up and cook time in the kitchen. The five of them would catch up on what was happening in their lives while they made a meal. Their mom would plan the menu and each sister would choose what she wanted to make. It was a female bonding time that was fun and delicious. Lauren missed those days.

“Are you a therapist?” He nearly spit the word. The expression on his face was crafty.

“A massage therapist? Not technically, no. But I’ve done my share of working with someone in pain.” She wiggled her fingers and smiled to show she knew what she was talking about.

“Don’t bother. I’m fine. I don’t need any kind of therapist,” he said, again with a disdainful tone.

“I can see you’re in pain, but” Lauren raised and dropped her shoulders, leaving her statement open.

Jake said nothing. His silence made her only want to try harder.

“So, what do you do, Jake?”

He didn’t immediately answer. “I’m between careers at the moment.”

“I see,” she said, knowing even with his dry method of speaking, he was mocking her. “I suppose in your last career you were a bouncer.”

“What?”

“Someone who knocks people down on the street.” Lauren wondered if he ever smiled. So far he’d scowled, winced and grimaced, but showed no positive emotion at all. He looked angry, something his brother had failed to tell her. Lauren had kept an image of him as the happy college student. But they were no longer in college and she was no longer Lori Graves. She was thirty-one and he was either thirty-three or thirty-four.

“That isn’t it,” he said.

She decided not to pursue it any further. Lauren was new to this pretend game and she didn’t want to show her hand or let him discover that she’d been hired by his brother. She was naturally shy and nervous at all the talking she was having to do.

They ate in silence for a while, enjoying the excellent food. When the waiter brought the check, Lauren quickly took it. Without glancing at it, she handed him her credit card and he walked away.

“Not only pushy, but aggressive,” Jake said.

“I said I’d pay for the coffee. The food came with it.” She smiled again, hoping he’d reciprocate. She was disappointed.

The other diners finished and left the restaurant. Only she and Jake remained with the staff, who’d all but disappeared. Jake slid out of the booth. Lauren stood, still on one heel. When she saw that Jake was in pain, she placed her hand on his right arm. He stopped immediately, facing her.

“Let me help,” she said in the same voice she always used with a crying child.

She didn’t wait for his approval. In fact, she expected him to refuse. She began moving her hand along the length of his arm. With her thumb and forefinger, she worked long, steady strokes against his muscles, smoothly caressing them with both the heat and shape of her hands. It would be better if his arm was bare, but this would have to do, she thought.

Jake stiffened at her initial touch, but he relaxed as she added pressure from his shoulder to his wrist. Then using both hands, she pushed him into a seat. He didn’t resist. Lauren found points where she assumed the pain was intense. Her fingers lingered there and she added releasing pressure to ease those tissues. His right arm was thinner than the left, indicating that he hadn’t used it in a while and had not been exercising it according to any competent therapist’s routine. She finished her impromptu massage, the entire procedure taking no more than five minutes. Stepping back, she stumbled, forgetting about her heelless shoe. With flailing hands she caught the table and steadied herself.

“Are you all right?” Jake asked whipping around, his good arm extended but couldn’t have reached her in time.

“Fine.” She smiled. “But I better put on those new shoes before I break an ankle.” Reseating herself, she pulled a shoe box from one of the bags and exchanged her broken heels for a pair of flat-sole shoes. When she stood, she was noticeably shorter than he was.

Outside, Lauren looked in the direction of the subway that would take her back to Brooklyn. She turned to Jake.

“Well, Jake Masters, thank you for the company. Consider the debt paid in full.” She offered him her left hand. He took it and shook. Lauren wasn’t sure, but she almost got a smile, at least the shadow of one at the edge of his mouth.

“It was interesting,” he said, still in a formal tone.

Lauren felt like she should stand up straight and salute. She didn’t know what his comment meant and decided not to find out if it was positive or negative.

“Well, Lauren Peterson, good luck with your new career.”

Lauren opened her purse and pulled out a card. It had her name and a phone number on it. Handing it to Jake, she said, “Just in case you want someone to help alleviate the pain.”

“Temporarily?”

She heard the sarcasm in his voice.

“True, so you’d better act fast or that number will be disconnected.”

JAKE WAS SPEECHLESS. He hadn’t been whirl-winded by a woman sincenever? Had it ever happened? He couldn’t remember. As he watched Lauren Peterson walking away, Jake wondered what had just happened. Who was she? She looked slightly familiar, but he was sure he didn’t know her, didn’t know anyone like her. Someone who could be both klutzy and aggressive at the same time. Women usually flocked to him. At least they had before Jake stopped the thought. He wouldn’t go there.

Since the accident, most people tried to ignore his arm. They didn’t mention it, tiptoeing around even looking in that direction. If anyone approached him, they did it from the left. If he changed direction, they moved back to his left side, as if he had a contagious disease that would jump through the air and infect them.

Without even knowing his name, Lauren broached the subject of his injury head-on. Jake admitted that threw him for a moment. He was in pain and when she bumped into him, it escalated.

There was no pain now. She said she wasn’t a therapist, but her hands had felt magical as she soothed his muscles better than any licensed therapist had ever made him feel.

Who was she? he asked himself again. He had his eyes on her back. She walked confidently, weaving in and out of the swaying crowd. After a few seconds, she was gone, swallowed by the sea of humanity. Jake glanced at the card in his hand. It had her name and a phone number. He remembered her words. That line would be disconnected soon.

Pushing the card in his pocket, he told himself it didn’t matter. He was no longer seeing therapists or nurses. They’d proved they could do nothing for him. It was all in his head. He’d been told that by the best psychologists in the business. Of course, they didn’t use those words. They used medical school jargon to explain neurological deficits, paralysis or somatosensory losses. It was hysterical paralysis for the layman. He was no moron. He knew the language. He’d learned it alongside them in the same chairs at the same medical schools. In essence, his mind wouldn’t let him move his arm.

Turning around, Jake dismissed Lauren. This was his life and this was how it was going to be. He headed toward the car that stopped at the curb. The driver got out and rushed around to open the door. Jake levered himself inside without any help and soon the car merged into the traffic.

Back at his apartment, the place felt cold and austere. It never had before. Had Lauren somehow changed his perspective? The apartment was a grand two-story space with twenty-foot ceilings and windows almost as tall, but today it felt empty and bleak. Lauren was different, not exactly a breath of fresh air, but someone he rarely came across. She was like spring: warm, sunny, colorful. Why was she making him feel that his apartment, the space he’d lived in for the last five years, was a grayed-out shell? It had everything he needed, furniture, lighting, paintings on the walls, books and a huge concert grand piano that had once belonged to his grandmother, yet he felt as if there was no life in the place.

Wasn’t that the way he wanted it? As cold and empty as his life had become. Did the rooms reflect the state of his life? Had it atrophied along with his arm? Jake glanced at his right arm. The pain had not returned. He wondered what she’d done that was different from the multiple therapists who’d tried and failed. Why were her hands more effective than those of the professionals?

The pain was real, but phantom nevertheless. Jake stared at the limb that hadn’t moved in two years. He willed it to move. Just a small change, even minuscule, would be welcome, his brain said. He’d ordered it to move millions of times since the doctors told him there was no physical reason why he shouldn’t be able to use his arm. Yet it refused to answer the commands of his conscious brain. It hung limply by his side or stayed in a pocket if he used his left hand to put it there.

Since he’d stopped all the therapy, the arm was noticeably smaller than his left one. He could give himself all the rationalized reasons he wanted, but he knew that without exercising that arm, it would atrophy. He dug out Lauren’s card and looked at it. As he ran his thumb over the raised lettering, he outlined her name, remembering her smile and her touch. He could almost feel the warmth of her hands sliding along the grain lines of his muscles, coaxing them into submission, giving them the blood flow they needed to allow the natural biochemistry of the human body to act as nature intended it.

His brother, Cal, came through the door while Jake was still looking at the card.

“You’re late,” Cal said.

Jake knew his brother was concerned about him. He wouldn’t have been surprised if Cal put out a missing person’s report. In this case, he probably only needed to contact the limousine driver to discover that he was alive and well and talking to a stranger on the street.

“I stopped for a late lunch with a woman named Lauren Peterson.”

“Really? Who?” Cal’s brows went up in surprise. Since the accident, Jake had spoken to few women and agreed to no invitations.

Jake walked to his brother and handed him the card. “Her. Check her out.”

“Where did you meet her?”

“On the street. Actually, we ran into each other, literally. She fell, dropped her packages, then suggested we have a cup of coffee.”

“Why am I checking her out?” Cal asked.

Cal always did the background checks. At least since the accident he had, taking on the role of protector to an infirm Jake. Jake was a wealthy man and he’d been taken advantage of once. Since then he protected himself. Jake didn’t mind Cal looking out for him. He loved his brother and knew Cal loved him.

“You’re concerned about me being alone while you go away. And since I refuse more nurses and therapists, at least for a while, maybe she will be the answer.”

“Why do you think that? You’ve met her once. For the space of a lunch.” Cal frowned.

“She massaged my arm and I’m not in any pain.”

“What? Where? Did you two go somewhere?”

“Nope. Right there in the restaurant. We were about to leave and she started stroking my arm. The pain went away and so far it hasn’t come back.”

“And you let this happen?”

Cal knew how sensitive Jake had become to people touching him. Most of them didn’t want to make contact. It was only the professionals who wanted to examine him, using the royal we to ask how he was doing.

“I didn’t have much of a choice.” Jake remembered how she’d begun. He would have stopped her, but the pain was subsiding and he couldn’t refuse the relief.

“And you think this person you met on the street can fill the job.”

“Not exactly I think she’ll fill your requirement that there is someone here in case of emergency and to make sure I get to appointments on time. And that’s why you get to do the digging.”

“All right,” Cal agreed. “I’ll check her out.”

“Cal.” Jake’s voice held a warning. “Don’t veto her just because she isn’t the nurse or therapy type you usually find.”

“I’ll be as thorough as possible. I don’t want to be leaving you with a stranger who has no credentials.”

“Don’t make that sound like she might have a criminal record.”

“I’ll check that out too,” Cal said as if the thought had just come to him.

Jake knew it hadn’t, but he decided to ignore the comment. When his brother said he’d be thorough, he meant it. Both of them would need to know if she had a criminal record.

“One more thing, Cal. She said she’s leaving the city soon, beginning a career somewhere else. That might be a problem.”

“If all goes well, I’ll contact her to see if she’ll take the job, at least until I return.” Caleb was a consulting engineer on a number of projects and traveled often.

Jake silently agreed with the plan. He just realized that he’d campaigned for Lauren. What was it about her that made him want to spend more time with her? They’d been in each other’s presence for only two hours at the most and he was willing to spend time with her each day.

This was wrong, Jake thought. He didn’t need anyone around to babysit him. He had a housekeeping staff that kept the place clean and a food service that managed his meals. He had a driver to take him anywhere he needed to go. Even if Lauren checked out, he could let her go if he had to as soon as Cal left for his job.

And he couldn’t be inconveniencing Lauren. She could go to her new place and begin her new career, whatever that was, sooner than she expected. It would work out for both of them.

However, before she left he’d get her to tell him what she did to his arm to relieve the pain.

CHAPTER TWO

LAUREN LOVED HER brownstone in Brooklyn. It was three stories and a basement, long with high-ceilinged rooms and character that new homes couldn’t come close to duplicating. But when she stepped through the door of Jake’s apartment, she felt that her entire house could fit into a single corner. She dropped her suitcase and a small thud sounded, but no dust cloud rose up from the magnificent carpet.

The housekeeper showed her to her suite, a large bedroom with a king-size bed, a sitting room and her own bathroom. She’d been there for an hour and she hadn’t seen Jake yet.

She headed into the kitchen and found the Mrs. Turner. The older woman had changed her shoes and her purse hung from her arm. She was obviously preparing to leave.

“Do you know where Mr. Masters is?” she asked.

“Dr. Masters,” she corrected. “I rarely see him. He spends a lot of time in his room. I come in three mornings a week and clean up, but I don’t see him.”

Lauren looked over her shoulder. From the kitchen she couldn’t see the staircase that led to the second floor. Even if she could, she didn’t know which room was Jake’s.

“Well, good morning,” the housekeeper said. “I have a key and I arrive around seven, but I can come later if that’s inconvenient.”

Lauren shook her head. “Seven is fine.”

“I’ll see you in a couple of days,” she said.

With the closing of the door, Lauren was alone. The huge space felt like being inside an opera house, except the generous light coming through the windows made her think she was outside and not in a dark concert hall.

She wondered if Jake had a routine. Neither he nor his brother had mentioned anything except certain appointments that Caleb emphasized were important for Jake to attend. Lauren sighed. If he didn’t have a routine, he was about to get one. Being alone too much was not good for him. She’d been pushy when they met. It was time for her to show him who was boss.

On her way up the stairs, she passed the rooms that had been assigned to her and went to the end of the building. If there was a master bedroom in the spacious apartment, it would probably be in one of the corners. She knocked on the door and waited. She heard nothing from inside. No movement, no radio’s or television’s muffled voices. Knocking again, she waited as the seconds ticked by.

On the third try, she knocked and opened the door simultaneously. She’d chosen the right door. The room was dark, curtains drawn and Jake lying in the massive bed. He didn’t move as she came in, leaving the door open to let in light so she could see around any obstacles.

“Good morning, Jake,” she said, using a stern voice.

He tugged the corners of his pillow over his ears. Again he didn’t respond. This told her he was wide awake and ignoring her. She went to the windows and looked for a pull cord, but couldn’t find one. Retracing her steps, she went around the bed, picked up a remote and pressed the power button. It would either open the curtains or turn on something electronic.

The drapes began to slowly open, letting in the eastern light.

“Close those.” The gruff voice made her jump. Jake sat up in bed, throwing the covers back and turning toward her, all the while squinting at the light.

“Close those!” he shouted. Blinking, he looked at her. Lauren could tell he didn’t recognize her at first.

“What are you doing here? I don’t need some nanny showing up with her bag of tricks.”

“You think I’m a person trusted enough to care for the well-being of children?” She thought about that for a moment. It gave her an idea. “Thank you.”

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

“And just to be correct, I don’t have a bag of tricks. What I do is pure magic.”

“Really.”

She smiled. “You never know.” Taking a step toward the bed, she surveyed the room. “It is still morning. If you don’t get moving, you’ll barely make it downstairs before it’s time for lunch.”

“I don’t want any lunch.”

“I do, and I don’t want to eat alone. So get up and get dressed. The housekeeper is gone for two days. This room smells like a gym and I imagine you do too.”

Lauren didn’t wait for a reply. She hurried out of the room, although she did leave the door open.

Twenty minutes later, he appeared in the kitchen. His hair was wet from the shower and he wore a wrinkled T-shirt, equally wrinkled shorts and no shoes.

“Let’s get one thing straight,” he began.

“That’s a good idea,” she interrupted him. “I’m here temporarily at the request of both you and your brother, so we need to have some ground rules.”

“I—”

Her hand came up, palm out, stopping him. “The housekeeper says you rarely leave that room when she’s here. From now on, you let her clean it.” She gave him a piercing glance. “Toast and coffee are already made.”

She poured Jake a cup and handed it to him. He took it and drank.

“I don’t like black coffee,” he said.

“Then you should have put your own cream and sugar in it.” She indicated the items on the table.

“I also don’t eat breakfast.”

“I believe there is a list of things you don’t do, but that will change.”

“Oh?”

She raised one eyebrow. “You don’t intimidate me,” she told him. “Your brother filled me in on your accident and your attitude since then.”

“I bet he did. Did he tell you I don’t need or want a babysitter, not even a nanny who performs magic?”

“He also told me you don’t want to see anyone, but you shouldn’t be alone. And nanny or not, you’ve got me.”

“Did he tell you that I might fire you the moment his plane left JFK?”

She nodded. Jake’s eyes widened in surprise.

“He figured that would happen. So, he gave me a key and told me I should let you know that I work for him, not you.”

“Meaning I have no fire power,” he stated.

“That’s the case.” She smiled, feeling like a fraud, but he didn’t need to know that. “On the other hand, I have the right to leave at any time. And I’m sure you’re planning to make my life miserable, so leaving will be my decision.”

She got a grin out of him. It wasn’t a full sardonic power play, but the shadow of what was apparent.

“So you’d better behave yourself. I can give as much as I get, Jake. Now, eat something. We’re going out as soon as you finish.”

Lauren took her coffee cup and scooted out of the kitchen. She made it up the stairs and into her room before her courage gave way. Letting out a long breath, she leaned against the closed door, and took long, calming breaths. She’d never spoken so candidly in her life. She wondered what was to come. Would Jake really make her life miserable?

He’d been different in the restaurant, but that was before she’d been sharing his life and his space. She would be staying in the apartment. The apartment was large enough for them to avoid each other, if he so chose, but as his companion she needed to interact with him. And he needed to interact with other people, as well. Her living here was convenient for her, too, as the couple she’d sold her brownstone to wanted possession as soon as possible.

Knowing that Jake was in pain and knowing that he really needed someone he could trust while Caleb was away. Lauren had to stay. He’d be abusive at first. She was sure of that. He was angry and she would get the backlash. Before coming here, she’d talked with a psychologist friend and told her what she planned to do without revealing the name of her She hesitated. Could she call him a patient? She shook her head. She couldn’t think of him as a patient. If she did, she might unintentionally refer to him that way.

Quickly, she unpacked her belongings and put them away. She didn’t bring much. Everything she hadn’t gotten rid of from the brownstone was in a storage unit, accessible, but not without inconvenience. Jake should have had enough time by now to get ready to go out. She hadn’t decided where they were going when she issued the order. It was designed for one purpose—to let him know she wasn’t going to be his doormat.

He was waiting in the living room when she came down the stairs.

“Where are we going?” he asked, his voice both gruff and challenging.

“For a walk in the park.”

“Why?”

“You need the exercise.”

“And you know this how?” he asked.

“When I bumped into you, you were so thin, I’m amazed you weren’t the one on the ground.”

“And you decided my welfare is now your responsibility?”

“I’m not here as one of your doctors.” She had to remind herself as well as him. “But walking will give us time to talk, get to know each other, lessen some of the tension between us.”

He eyed her keenly. She wondered if he was thinking again about how pushy she was. The thought made her feel powerful. She wasn’t aggressive by nature, but she would allow herself to be pushed only so far before she pushed back. And Jake Masters was used to doing the pushing.

Not today, she told herself.

WHAT SHOULD HE FEEL? Jake asked himself. It had been so long since he’d felt anything but anger. And into his life plunges Lauren Peterson. If he wasn’t so opposed to her intervention, he’d find the situation funny. Especially now that he was sitting and waiting for her, showered and dressed as she’d ordered.

It was ironic, he told himself. If Cal was here they’d both laugh at the absurdity of the situation. Jake had asked for Lauren. He had no idea she would be ordering him around.

He’d read the report Cal had left with him. She was an elementary school teacher. There was nothing else in the report that was of any interest. He didn’t know exactly when she planned to leave the city, but since it was summer, school was not in session.

He heard the door open upstairs and looked up. The sun hit her and for a second his breath caught. Red highlights added a glow around her dark brown hair. He knew that color, knew another woman with hair the sun highlighted just like that. She’d been his first love—Pamela Bailey. He’d looked across his tenth grade classroom and saw the sun shining through Pamela’s hair. Jake hadn’t thought of her in years. What was happening to him? He was never usually this nostalgic.

Lauren was already on her way down the stairs and he followed her movements. She was taller than the average height for a woman, maybe five feet seven or eight. She wore pants that made her legs look as long as the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge. Her steps were measured and unhurried, making her appear regal. Definitely not the walk of any teacher he’d ever known.

“Are you in any pain?” she asked when she stood in front of him.

Jake hadn’t thought of his pain since she accosted him in his bedroom. “I’m all right,” he responded.

“Sit down and let me massage your arm before we leave.”

“I thought you weren’t here as a therapist.”

“I’m not.” She smiled. “But if you’re in pain, you can let me help or you can suffer in silence.”

He gave her a long look, but eventually sat down. She began to knead his arm, beginning at his shoulder. Jake allowed her touch to see if she could perform the same magic as the previous time. It was working. He could feel the warmth of her fingers.

“Are you sure you’re not trained in this?”

“I’m self-trained,” she told him.

“Self-trained? What does that mean?”

She waited a long moment. He felt her hesitate, then slightly ease the pressure of her hands. When she spoke, her voice was laced with suppressed emotion. “My mother suffered from severe migraine headaches and arthritis pain. I used to give her a massage every day.”

“Every day?”

“It helped her.”

She moved from his shoulder farther down his arm. Jake wore a short-sleeved shirt and her bare hands were on his bare arm. Heat penetrated his skin, seeping deep into his muscles and relaxing the tension. He wondered what she thought of his immobile limb. Had Cal told her anything about his medical history? What he’d been through? Would she understand?

“How does that feel?” she asked when she’d finished and stood back.

“Fine,” he said. Jake held back how good it felt. He refused to let her know that he wanted her to massage his arm any time he was in pain. He hated being dependent on people. He’d agreed to allow her to be his companion while Cal was away, just to get Cal off his back, but now he thought she could do more.

As long as she didn’t interrupt his life. He’d have to have her agree to a few boundaries, if he could get a word in.

“Did the doctors find a treatment for her pain?” he asked.

“She died five years ago.”

He turned to look at her. He could see why Cal had chosen her as his companion. She’d obviously gained good experience caring for her mother. Jake wanted to say something to ease her pain, but knew there was nothing that was appropriate or even wanted. All the platitudes that people came up with only made the person feel worse.

“I miss her. We had a wonderful relationship and I never minded giving her massages. It gave us time to talk and tell stories. I was her companion and caretaker.”

Jake envied her the obvious love she had for her mother. He understood that love. His mother was the reason he’d gone into medicine. He’d followed in her footsteps and they were big shoes to fill.

“What does your mother do?” she asked.

“She worked as a nurse for years and now runs a nursing program at a university in Pennsylvania. My father teaches math at the same school.”

“Do you see them often?”

“Not as often as they would like. Cal goes to see them more than I do.”

“Why is that? You can’t say it’s your arm, since you can still walk and talk and I’m sure you can drive, even if you don’t want to.”

“Even before my arm, I traveled a lot or was seldom available except for holidays that might also be interrupted on a moment’s notice.”

“And now? It doesn’t take both hands to pick up a phone.”

“I call occasionally.”

Jake was getting tired of her constantly mentioning his arm. He was so used to people doing their best to avoid the issue.

“Why don’t we go for that walk you mentioned?” Maybe walking would give her something else to focus on.

And him too, because those auburn highlights kept sending his mind back to the days before the accident when he had his whole life before him. Now look at him. He glanced at his right arm. He used to go into operating rooms and save lives.

That was before he became useless.

THEY LEFT THE building through the arched doorway of the majestic Dakota apartment building on Central Park West. Jake wore a sling supporting his right arm. It was a short walk across the street to the park’s entrance. Like most New Yorkers, Lauren crossed the street when there was a break in traffic, ignoring signal lights and taking her life into her own hands. Lauren stepped off the curb only to be pulled back by Jake.

A car rounded the corner and would have hit her.

“You’re supposed to be my caretaker,” he said. “Not the other way around.”

“Companion. I am not a caretaker. That’s a job I did not sign up for.”

They crossed when the light turned green and entered the park. The temperature was warm, yet pleasant, and for a while they walked without talking. Lauren was comfortable with the silence. The park was full of people. Children were playing on the vast lawn. There were tables where people sat playing board games and other places where a long curved bench ran the length of a fence. People sat there reading books or using their personal phones.

Lauren smiled as she and Jake passed by.

“It’s been a long time since I walked in the park,” she said.

Jake made a hmm noise that indicated he concurred. She wondered if he was warming up to her. The tension from the apartment seemed to have been left behind.

“Do you like parks?” she asked.

“Twenty questions again?”

“Just making conversation.” She wanted to know more about him. “I take it you’re a stick-to-the-subject type of guy.” She huffed and used her arms to take a macho stance.

He laughed.

“That’s the first time you’ve laughed since I met you.”

He immediately dropped his head and his expression reverted to a stoic mask.

She couldn’t resist. “Once it’s broken, let the pieces fall away,” she said.

“What?”

“You’ve smiled. The pieces that were holding your face in a scowl are gone.” She imitated the cross way he looked. “You’re much handsomer when you smile.”

He stopped walking and stared at her. “Don’t flirt with me.”

“Flirt?” she said, honestly surprised. “I’m not flirting with you. If I were, I’d know it and so would you.”

Tension returned between them.

After a few minutes walking in silence, Lauren slipped her arm through Jake’s left one. He jerked at first. She knew he wasn’t used to being touched. He probably thought people didn’t want to touch him. She didn’t let go, and pulled him along when he tried to stop.

“Not flirting,” she said. When he didn’t pull free of her, she decided to take another plunge. “Tell me about the accident.”

“What?”

“Too soon?” she asked.

“Are you just nosy?”

She shook her head. “I think of it as getting to know you, knowing what happened and not having any subjects that are off-limits.”

“Most people do this over time. You’re trying to learn everything in one large information dump.”

She laughed, still holding his arm. “Why wait? If there is a lot to know, getting it all at once could prevent me from stepping on your toes in the future.”

“I have no idea what you mean,” Jake said.

“I’m sure you do,” she contradicted. “So why don’t we start with the arm?”

She knew he didn’t want to tell her about his accident. Maybe if she started with a lesser question, she could coax him into opening up.

“What did Cal tell you?” he said just as she was about to ask another question.

“That you were a surgeon and because of an accident a few years ago you can no longer move your right hand or arm.” That hadn’t been all Caleb had said, but Lauren wanted Jake to tell her his version.

“I was at a medical conference in France. It was made up mainly of trauma surgeons. During a break, a few of us were heading for lunch at a local restaurant. Just before we got there” He stopped talking and walking. Jake took a step away from her, their linked arms dropping in the process.

Lauren knew he was reliving the trauma. She could almost feel the lump in his throat. She wanted to give him some instructions on how to stop the memory, but she couldn’t. She’d already told him why she knew how to massage as well as she did. That was the truth, but advising him on how to calm the memories of a trauma could tip him off that she knew more about medicine than a kindergarten teacher should.

After a moment, he resumed his story. “Terrorists happened next. A car plowed into a group of people on the street and detonated a bomb. I was one of the lucky ones. The concussion wave threw me against a building. The crush of bodies pinned me there until I couldn’t breathe. When I woke, I was in a hospital. My shoulder and three ribs were broken. All have healed, except my arm.” He looked down at the immobile limb.

“And you’ve been to a lot of doctors?”

“The best in the world,” he said sardonically. “Cal saw to that, but no matter what they say, I still can’t move my arm.”

“It’s not permanently injured?”

He looked her directly in the eyes. For a second his gaze showed vulnerability. He was afraid. The air around them seemed to change. It softened just as his eyes had.

“I don’t know.” His voice was barely louder than a whisper.

Lauren held his gaze although she wanted to look away. I don’t know. He sounded like he could see into the future and that his arm would remain as it was today: in a sling against his shirt, without strength, mobility or usefulness.

The atmosphere turned maudlin and Lauren searched for a way to change it. She stepped closer to him and placed a hand on his arm.

“You resisted giving me a cliché when I told you about my mother,” she said. “Allow me to return the favor.”

His head dropped down a fraction.

“I won’t say your arm will be better in the future, but” She paused, knowing her next words could make the situation go either way. “It’s not the end of your world, is it?”

“I’m a surgeon.” His voice carried. Looking around, he checked to see if anyone noticed. No one paid any attention to them.

“I know you’re a surgeon and you spent a lot of years in school honing your skills but there are other things you can do.”

“Like what?”

“Teach,” she said.

“This coming from a kindergarten teacher.”

“Don’t knock it. A lot of people taught you and I’m sure you credit at least one of them with helping you become a talented surgeon.”

He said nothing, yet a perplexed expression crossed his face. Lauren went on. “You could write.”

“With one hand.”

“If necessary, but you could use a voice recognition program and hire an editor to make it readable.”

“You don’t think I can write?”

Lauren wondered if Jake was entertaining thoughts that he might do something else. His knowledge was still there. His dexterity might be impaired, but his mind was sharp. Of that she could attest.

“Most doctors can’t. All they write are prescriptions.”

“What would I write about?”

“Is that a trick question?” Lauren glared at him as if he was baiting her. Assuming that he wasn’t, she answered. “You’re a doctor. Write about medicine. Or write about your arm.”

“A journal?”

“You could start with a journal and graduate to full books. Of course, a journal is personal. Writing one might help you.”

“Do you keep a journal?”

“Not now,” she said slowly.

“But in the past?” He left the sentence hanging.

“I did once.” This time her voice was barely audible. “For a long time.”

“Why?”

“Listen, I know from where I speak.” She stopped him from delving into her life. She was his companion. He was not hers.

“I’ll think about it,” he finally said.

She heard no conviction in his voice. He was placating her. They walked on. Although his face gave nothing away, Lauren wanted him to focus on something other than his arm and the pain. She’d seen it happen in her pediatric patients. When she allowed them to play with the toys in her office and she asked them questions about what they were doing, they didn’t focus on anything that hurt. Grown-ups weren’t much different.

Jake was an enigma. She couldn’t tell if he was bitter or just lost.

CHAPTER THREE

THE MOMENT LAUREN was alone, she called Amy Reynolds, her best friend and purveyor of all things. The two had known each other since Lauren opened her practice and hired Amy as her head nurse. Whenever a kid needed a hug or a toy, Amy seemed to find it within her arms or behind her back. It was uncanny how she could come up with the exact thing the child needed.

It also didn’t hurt that Amy was in charge of office Christmas presents. All the staff loved her and her ability to find what was needed when it was needed.

“Lauren,” she said when she answered her phone. “I’ve been thinking about you. How are things going?”

“They’re a little tense at the moment.”

“Not doing so good with the doctor?” she asked.

Amy was the only person who knew Lauren was working for renowned surgeon Dr. Jacob Masters. She’d been sworn to secrecy.

“You sound good though,” Amy said.

“Thanks.”

Amy didn’t have to say it. Lauren knew how she felt and how she sounded when the two parted after she sold the practice. Amy had tried to cheer her up the same way Lauren was trying to get Jake to return to the world. It just hit Lauren that the two of them were similar in that respect. Both she and Jake had had traumas to their lives and both had retreated into themselves. Lauren was by no means over hers, but her clean start in another city was her plan to get her life back on track.

“So what’s going on?” Amy cut into her thoughts.

“I need you to get me something and I need it tomorrow.”

“That sounds mysterious. What is it?”

“A traditional upper-crust nanny’s outfit, complete with straw hat, umbrella and carpetbag.”

“What? Why?”

“I’ve got an idea.”

“You’re not making any sense,” Amy said. There was a question in her tone.

Lauren could practically see her friend staring at the phone as if that would help her decipher what was going on in Lauren’s mind.

“I know. Isn’t it wonderful?”

“II don’t know. I wanted you to try something different, not go completely off course.”

“I’m not going off course and I’m not really going on a stage, at least not a Broadway one. I’m going to throw Jake Masters for a loop or make a fool of myself trying.”

Amy laughed, her voice a high soprano.

“It’s a good thing we live in New York. Here you can get anything you want practically at any time of the day or night.”

“Great. Call me and tell me where to meet you.”

Talking to Amy always made Lauren feel better. She didn’t know what she would have done if Amy hadn’t been there to help her through the last year. When Lauren got settled, she’d try to coax Amy out of New York and the two of them could begin again as doctor and nurse.

THE MAIL ARRIVED at the same time every morning. Lauren collected it and separated the circulars and advertisements from the letters. Jake didn’t get any personal mail. Correspondence like that probably came through email. She could almost see him hitting the delete key without responding to anything. The letters that arrived were mostly invitations to medical, hospital or corporate functions. He refused them all. If he did open any of the envelopes, their contents often ended up in the trash. If a bill slipped into the pile, he had her send it to his accountant.

When she finished the mail, she found Jake sitting in the great room. He had a book lying open on his knees. Lauren had the feeling it was a prop, there for show only. He was using it to avoid having to speak to her. After two weeks, she was learning his moods and his self-protective instincts. She challenged them at every turn.

“Reading anything interesting?” she asked.

“You wouldn’t like it,” he said.

He looked at her, but since he’d come down to breakfast and found her wearing a nineteenth century British nanny’s outfit, carpetbag at her side, he’d said nothing about her attire. Lauren didn’t mention it either. She knew it was eating at him to know why she was dressed that way. She’d let him stew over it until curiosity forced him to ask.

“You have no way of knowing what I like to read. My tastes cover a variety of subjects.”

“Anything above a first-grade level?” he mocked.

“Only when absolutely necessary,” she joked. She was sure he got her meaning, although his face showed the static emotion of nonchalance. Lauren told herself that he was getting used to her, even if he wouldn’t admit it to himself. She guessed he spent most of his time alone except for the people who worked for him. She hadn’t seen him talk to anyone since she’d been here. While he treated her with disdain at times, she figured he truly wanted her around.

She’d tested that theory two days ago, by steering clear of him. She stayed in her room or remained in the office for hours. He’d find an excuse to come and see what she was doing. A smile curled her lips when he did this because, whether he wanted it or not, he needed human contact.

“Do you have any friends?” Lauren asked.

Jake’s head came up quickly and he looked at her. “Of course I have friends.”

“Why don’t they come by or call?” She glanced at his cell phone lying on the coffee table. “Why don’t you call them? The only people I’ve seen or heard are here to bring something, clean something or take care of you.”

“You don’t know that I haven’t called my friends.”

Lauren gave him her brightest I-know-something-you-don’t smile. “You have a lovely voice,” she said. “It’s deep and thunderous at times. I imagine you could accompany yourself with one hand on that beautiful piano.” She glanced at the gleaming yet silent instrument. “But I’ve never heard you talking on the phone or speaking to anyone when I’m not in the room.”

“You listen?” he accused.

“Yes,” she said. “Part of my job is to make sure you’re all right. If I did hear anything unusual, I’d have to check it out. So farnothing.”

“The truth is most of my friends are doctors and they have very few hours to gab on the phone, much less visit.”

Lauren knew that wasn’t true, but she held back any comment. Jake was making excuses.

“Will they be at any of those functions you get invitations for? One is a fund-raising ball. You could go there—”

He put up a hand to stop her. “I will not go.”

His voice held finality. To punctuate his words, he grabbed his phone as he passed the table and headed out of the room.

Lauren watched him go. His spine was straight and his shoulders back, his steps so stiff she thought he might break.

Anger was an emotion and it was hissing from a crack in Jake’s armor.

Lauren smiled.

FIRE HER. IN HIS past life, he’d never put up with someone who talked so much, bullied him and delved into his personal life the way Lauren did. She was relentless. No area appeared to be off-limits to her. She observed everything. How could she know he never talked to any of his friends? She couldn’t be monitoring his phone. Jake was extremely tech savvy and he knew his phone was secure.

And the nanny outfit! What was that all about? He’d commented on her not needing to act like a babysitter and here she was in a long dress and boots, her hair done up in an old-fashioned knot.

Nothing about her face was old-fashioned though. The smile was all Lauren’s, lively, and never out of place. And all too often Jake found himself getting lost in those wide, expressive eyes of hers. They were her best feature, the one that had him taking her to lunch on the day they met.

He’d retreated to the home gym, but only stood in the room looking at the long wall of mirrors. His grandmother had them installed when his mother was young and wanted to be a dancer. She’d studied for years, but eventually gave up the idea for nursing. The mirrors were still there as a reminder. Jake had the exercise equipment installed when he started working. With such long hours at the hospital, he had little time to travel back and forth to a gym.

He surveyed the room. Everything a modern gym could offer was available to him here. The problem he had was that with only one hand, most of the equipment was little more than giant dust collectors.

The door opened and Lauren stepped in.

“Yes?” he asked. This was the one place in the apartment that she had not yet invaded.

“I wondered if you’d mind if I used the equipment here sometimes?”

“The apartment is yours. With the exception of my rooms, you may use any room you like.”

“Thank you,” she said quietly and started to back out.

“Lauren,” he called.

She looked up. The sun hit her hair again and images of her on the stairs came to him. He felt bad that he’d treated her unkindly. He wasn’t that sort of man, at least he hadn’t been before the accident. She was here to help him, keep him from being alone. It was unfair that he treated her like an unwelcome guest. The truth was, he enjoyed having someone around to talk to. He hadn’t known that until she came, and he was surprised she hadn’t run away screaming after the way he behaved.

“Isn’t it time for our walk?” he asked.

AND SO THEIR routine began. Except for their daily walks in the park, it was mainly an indoor routine. Lauren looked after everything that required two hands, kept his schedule and sorted his mail. A personal trainer came daily to help Jake exercise in the gym. The housekeeper did the cleaning and oversaw the food deliveries and preparation of meals.

Jake got himself up, showered and dressed. She didn’t know how he put his clothes on without help, but he always appeared in his doorway fully dressed and buttoned. She’d volunteered once to tie his sneakers since she noticed the laces were undone. He allowed it, but she felt his discomfort.

“What’s it like being a kindergarten teacher?” he asked out of the blue one day as she was massaging his arm. He hadn’t asked her to do it, but she’d learned the signs of his pain. Without saying anything, she just began to soothe the aches he felt. At first, he jumped at her touch, but eventually her contact didn’t draw that reaction.

“A kindergarten teacher,” she said. This was a question she was prepared for. She was a pediatrician and her clientele was primarily under the age of sixteen. She knew how children acted, both when they felt good and when they were ill.

One of Lauren’s sisters owned a day care center that also operated a preschool. Kindergarten was the last class for the kids before they began regular school. “It’s fun most days. The kids are loud, unruly and eager when they first arrive. Many of them have been to nursery school, so they come knowing a lot. They have to test me as a teacher.”

“You should see the look on your face,” he said.

Lauren immediately altered her expression. She didn’t want to give anything away.

“You obviously like being a teacher. I guess you’re planning to do the same thing when you leave here.”

“I am,” she said, although she felt her guard come up. “What’s it like being a surgeon?”

She felt him stiffen, knowing that would be his response.

“Did you always want to go into medicine?”

Lauren stopped massaging his arm. She ran her hand down the length of it, using a nonverbal signal that she was done. She could tell his discomfort had lessened. Moving around him, she sat on a sofa opposite him. Jake looked her directly in the eye. He had a piercing look when he was angry, but that wasn’t the expression she saw now.

“Like most kids, I went through a series of professions I wanted to do when I grew up.”

Lauren smiled, remembering her own choices. “What were they?”

“Fireman, pilot, truck driver.”

“Truck driver?” she laughed.

He smiled. Lauren liked seeing that smile. Lately, she was seeing it more and more. She wondered if it was her presence that brought it out or if he was coming to terms with his injury.

“Did you ever drive a truck?” she asked.

“Once. I was seventeen. At that age, remember, you can do anything.”

Lauren didn’t acknowledge that.

“I backed it into the side of a building,” Jake said. “And there went that career.”

Both of them laughed.

“After that I knew I never wanted to do that again. I finished high school and college and went to med school.”

“I’m sure there’s more to it than that.”

“Nothing life altering, although I did meet other med students who were there because they’d lost a loved one and had a calling,” he said.

“So, how was it for you?”

He took a moment before answering. “I’d graduated from college and had a job working in economic forecasting. I was bored to death, and during lunch I walked by the med school and went in. I sat down in one of the lecture halls and was so engrossed in the study that I stayed until the class ended and talked to the professor.”

“He convinced you to enroll?”

Jake shook his head. “I convinced myself. I felt like this was where I was supposed to be.”

Lauren watched him closely. He wasn’t looking at her. His eyes were focused somewhere over her shoulder, back in the past to that lecture hall and the man explaining medical procedures.

“I wanted to be that person. I wanted to know how everything worked and how to fix it if it didn’t work properly.”

“So you did have a calling,” she stated.

This time Jake’s eyes focused on her. “I had a calling,” he said. The surprise in his voice told her the revelation had just come to him.

A moment later, all the progress they’d made in getting Jake to open up was ripped away. Jake glanced down at his arm, then abruptly got up and without a word left the room. Lauren had never been a companion and didn’t really know what her patient needed. Not her patient, she corrected herself. She thought they were moving forward. He was talking more, accepting her company and even taking the initiative to join her at times.

Yet when he sank into depression over his arm, she was clueless what to do. She’d made suggestions, but he hadn’t taken any of them.

Getting up, she followed him into the kitchen. He appeared to be making coffee.

“Can I help you with something?” she asked.

“I’m perfectly capable of making my own coffee,” he snapped.

Lauren nearly jumped at the force of his words. “I’m not the enemy,” she said, just as emphatically.

He whipped around. Instinctively, she stepped back. He stared at her for a second, then his shoulders dropped and the fight went out of him.

“I apologize. I didn’t mean to shout at you.”

She went to the cabinet where he stood and took down the mug he liked to use. Setting it on the counter, she stepped back and spoke softly. “I won’t pretend to know what you’re feeling. I’ve never lost the use of any body part. In sports and dancing, my body does what I tell it, adheres to my commands.”

“I can’t explain it,” Jake said.

She didn’t expect him to. Lauren watched as he filled the carafe with water and poured it into the coffeemaker. After placing the carafe in the machine and the prepackaged pod in the designed pocket, he closed the lid and hit the brew button. The entire operation was efficiently orchestrated, as if he’d done it all his life.

Lauren had the feeling he was showing her that he was self-sufficient. She no longer felt he was trying to get rid of her, only letting her know that he wasn’t a toddler. He could stand on his own without falling down.

JAKE FROWNED WHEN Cal’s name and image appeared on his ringing cell phone. Obviously, his only brother wanted to check up on him.

“I’m fine, Cal,” Jake said drily, instead of the standard greeting. Cal called each week, always asking about his health. As a structural engineer, Cal was working on a building project in Colorado. Jake had the suspicion that he took the job to force Jake to change from the recluse he’d become.

“Good morning to you too,” Cal replied. “How’s Lauren? Have you fired her yet?”

“She doesn’t work for me. So, as she’s reminded me several times, I have no right to fire her.”

“I’m sure you tried,” Cal laughed.

Jake didn’t respond.

“Have you thought of talking to her?”

“Talking to her?” His voice level rose slightly. “She seems to come with batteries that are on perpetual charge mode. I can’t get a word in and I’ve tried.” The truth was he did talk to Lauren. If he didn’t, she’d force him to answer questions all day.

Cal chuckled. Jake could see the humor, but willed himself to keep his face straight.

“Other than that, how are you doing?”

“I already answered that,” Jake said.

“What about the pain in your arm? Is it any better?”

Jake didn’t want to admit that he had pain, but Lauren had helped with that.

“She’s good at massages,” Jake said.

“Massages?”

Jake heard the question in his brother’s voice. “My arm, Cal. She massages my arm. Before you left, I told you what she’d done in the restaurant. She’s been doing it here too.”

“Well, that alone is reason to let her stay. I know how much pain you were in. Is it less now?”

“Yes,” he said, not explaining the sharp decrease he’d experienced in his arm since Lauren put her magic fingers on him.

Caleb didn’t say anything for a minute. Jake could hear a muffled sound in the background.

“Sorry, Jake, I have to go now. I’ll call you again next week.”

“You don’t have to keep checking up on me,” Jake told him.

“Sure I do. We’re brothers and one day we can talk about something other than your arm. Bye.”

Jake clicked the end button. He remembered when his conversations with Cal had nothing to do with his arm. The two talked about sports, medicine, their jobs and the places in the world where Cal worked. Cal was always cautious, the planner. Being an engineer suited him, but the brothers had always been close. Jake was the daring one. Cal was more reserved, but they loved each other. They’d had the usual sibling rivalry, but Cal always supported Jake in his choices. Never did he think their conversations would be reduced to Jake’s medical needs.

At least now they had Lauren to focus on. He thought about her and how she’d helped his arm. She had the ability to make his pain go away temporarily. Cal had joked about Lauren’s massages, as if there was something between them.

Never, Jake thought.

She wasn’t his type and she talked way too much.

“Jake.”

There she was.

WALKING IN THE park was an activity Lauren looked forward to. Sometimes they talked and other times they were quiet, but the companionship between them was most evident here. They crossed the street and passed through the gates on a warm July day.

She’d been wearing a different version of the nostalgic nanny outfit for a week, thanks to Amy. Jake eyed her suspiciously. She was bound to draw attention and she wasn’t sure he was ready for that. It didn’t take long before she was surrounded by children asking who she was pretending to be. Turned out, she was ready for that as she launched into a song and dance, and pretended to pull something magical from her bag. Jake stood to the side, away from her and away from the parents and nannies overseeing the safety of their children.

They recognized that the song she sang was from the remake of the famous musical Mary Poppins, and joined in.

She waved goodbye as she rejoined Jake and the kids ran happily back to their parents.

“You’re really good with kids,” he said.

Lauren couldn’t tell Jake that the real reason why, not unless she wanted today to be the last time they saw each other.

“It’s the dress and the hat.” She glanced up, but all she saw was the brim of the straw hat that went with the costume. “They just want to be loved and happy.”

“You don’t have any problem wearing that costume out in public in July?”

Lauren checked herself. “Are you kidding? This is New York City. Other than kids, nobody notices. They probably think I’m promoting the play.” An updated version was currently on Broadway. “Is it bothering you?”

“I’m a little old to be out with my nanny.”

“Well, if anyone says anything, just point them to me. I’ll find something in my magic bag to make them go away.”

Lauren was really having fun. The costume was for Jake’s benefit, but the kids added a special touch she hadn’t counted on.

She clasped his right arm through the sling and wasn’t surprised when Jake reacted to the contact.

“What are you doing?” he asked, trying to jerk away from her.

“Nothing different. I usually take your arm when we walk.”

“You usually walk on this side.” He pointed to the ground with his left hand.

“It makes no difference,” she said innocently.

Jake’s glare told her she knew it made a difference.

“Jake, you have two arms. So why does it matter which side I walk on? Today, I choose this side.”

To drive her point home, she grasped the arm tighter. Checking that there was no sign of pain, she gripped his biceps.

“I see those exercises are working. This arm is a lot stronger,” she said, deflecting the subject.

He knew by now that she could be as stubborn as he was and it was best if he just let her have her way. He started walking. He moved fast and Lauren stumbled once before matching his stride.

“Do you think I’ll let go if you break into a run?” she asked after they’d maintained the fast walk for three minutes.

Jake stopped. “You know I can do this on my own.”

“You’ve made that very clear. I understand that you’re trying to get rid of me. Other than the arm massage, you’d like me to leave for parts unknown.”

“Exactly,” he said with a smile, only this smile wasn’t laced with humor. Bitterness might identify it, nonetheless, it was clear he wanted her gone.

“That’s it. You don’t want anyone around you. You want to wallow in sorrow and wonder why you? Why did this have to happen to you? You’re a surgeon. You fix people. So why take away the one thing that you can do?”

“Careful, Ms. Peterson. You’re skating on thin ice.”

The stare she gave Jake could melt steel. She held it for several moments, then dropped his arm and turned around before walking just as fast as he had back toward Central Park West.

It wasn’t Jake’s fault. He didn’t know about her—didn’t understand that she’d lost a child.

She reached the apartment in record time. Once in her room, she slammed the door shut and backed up against it. Seconds later, her legs gave out and she slid to the floor.

Lauren couldn’t cry. Her eyes were burning but she’d shed all the tears she had a year ago. Her body’s trembling was her only outward reaction. She didn’t know how long she sat there, her legs curled under her. When she got to her feet, they tingled with the pins-and-needles sensation from sitting in one position for too long.

Jake was wrong. No visible appendage had been taken from her. She’d given it. Free and clear. Without argument or resistance.

THE CITY WAS dark and mysterious outside those massive windows. Night had fallen, and Lauren was alone in the great room. She stared at the horizon in the distance.

Somewhere out there was both danger and adventure. Somewhere a Midwesterner got off a bus in Port Authority and marveled at the sheer number of people, like a human wave, moving through the cavernous building. Lauren had once been one of them.

Looking out the window that faced east, she thought how she loved this room, especially at this time of night. She might have to leave it soon. She and Jake had gotten too close to an argument. She shouldn’t feel as if she was forcing him to embrace life when he so clearly wanted to dive into oblivion and stay there. Didn’t he have that right?

They weren’t friends, but she felt concern for him and his future. It seemed strange for her to be so interested when they’d known each other only a short time. Yet in reality, she was a doctor and concern for her fellow man was part of her being. But Jake was more than her “fellow man.” She was falling for him.

“What are you doing?”

Lauren jumped. Jake came down the stairs, his left hand sliding along the banister for balance.

When he reached her, she forced a smile, remembering their earlier encounter in the park. He hadn’t appeared for dinner and Lauren had eaten a solitary meal that tasted like sawdust, alone. The food was fine. It was her thoughts that dulled the taste.

“I’m looking at the city.”

He glanced through the window and back at her as if there was nothing to see.

“You could smell the roses sometime,” she told him.

“We have no roses.”

Lauren cut her eyes at him and moved further back into the room. The view was the same, but she was a greater distance from Jake and determined to remain calm and in control of both her emotions and her tongue.

“You know what this room reminds me of?” she asked.

She couldn’t see Jake in the dark. He probably raised an eyebrow, but he said nothing. He often did that instead of speaking. She hadn’t been around him long enough to know if this action was related to his injury or if he’d always been like that. A third option was that he did it just to perplex her.

“A Hollywood set,” she said.

Jake made a sound that said he didn’t agree.

“I saw a movie once that had a room a lot like this one. A man sat at a piano and played a song, a love song as the screen faded to black.”

“I don’t watch love stories.”

His voice held its familiar gruffness, but Lauren had begun to ignore his tone.

“Do you play the piano?”

She was standing in front of it, a huge concert grand, the frame so shiny she could see her reflection in it on sunny days.

“Not anymore,” he said, his voice a low whisper.

“But you did before the accident?” She knew the answer to that question, but she wanted him to know that the mention of the accident was not something that needed to be hidden in a dark room.

“What about dancing?”

“Excuse me?”

“You can’t play, but can you dance?”

Again, he stood as if mute.

Lauren went to the CD collection he had and selected one of them. The music wasn’t a fast, up-tempo song, but something a little slower. As it began to play, it filled the room with sound. She felt as if it came from every corner of the room.

Going to him, she offered her hand.

“You want to dance?” he asked.

“I do. You have an invitation to a ball. That implies dancing.”

“I told you I wasn’t going to that ball.”

“Going or not going doesn’t mean you can’t dance.”

She took his arm and pulled him forward, placing his hand around her waist. Gently, she began to sway. Jake remained still for a couple of seconds before something appeared to give in him and he joined her. Occasionally she’d brush his right arm as they turned about in a small circle. After a few moments, Lauren forgot about his arm. The night and music carried her. She closed her eyes and let Jake guide her.

The music stopped. Lauren felt an abruptness. She’d overstepped her bounds. She knew it because she liked being this close to Jake. The strength of his left arm as he held her was comforting and safe. She wanted to stay there longer, but the music was no longer giving her a reason to hold on to him.

“You dance very well,” she said.

“So do you. I guess you’d like to go to that ball?”

Lauren stepped back. “I’m a companion, remember. I’m not here to date you.”

“That didn’t answer my question. Would you like to go to the ball?”

Lauren didn’t know what to say. Yes was on the tip of her tongue. Yet she was unsure of how that answer would affect him.

“You already said you didn’t want to go. More emphatically, you said you would not go.”

“I’ve changed my mind. We’ll go.”

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