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Authors: Gail McFarland
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At least I didn’t murder that young woman , he told himself, but his heart wouldn’t let him off that easily. You don’t know. What if she doesn’t survive the surgery? What if she’s maimed for life? How will you live with yourself then, Dr. Savior?
Reynolds’s eyes went back to the sink, but he refused to give in to the urge to scrub his already scourged skin one more time. Washing your hands is not going to wake her or make her whole again. Washing your hands is not going to ever cleanse them of her blood. Ever.
Why did the nagging voice in his head insist on sounding like Desireé Johnson? He could hear the lip-smacking tartness of her lazy drawl in every word. Great. Now she’s not only suing me, she’s also going to be the voice of my conscience?
Aw, hell, no!
I’m a doctor, a very good doctor, and I’m not going to second-guess myself on this. I’ll do what I have to do to make up for what happened to this woman, but I can’t…I won’t let her or Desireé cost me the life I’m entitled to. It was an accident, damn it. I’m sorry it happened. I’m sorry if this Marlea Kellogg has to go through some pain, but at least she’s alive. I’ll help her if I can, but that’s it. Determined, Parker stood straighter and accepted the surgical gloves he was offered.
I shouldn’t have let my mind wander, and…My car! The Corniche was parked in his designated slot at the hospital, but how long would it take for someone to look at the car and ask the logical questions?
It didn’t look bad when I checked it, just surface damage to the fender, but I was in a hurry. What if I missed something? What if it’s worse than I thought? A hand-built custom Corniche is not the kind of car you allow to get scuffed, scraped, or dirty. What if one of these nosy people checks it? What if they find damage? And when they do and they ask questions, what will I say? Oh, that little ding? I hit, ran, nearly killed a woman, and scraped my car up in the process?
But to have the bodywork done…where can I take it? After all, you don’t casually take a quarter-million-dollar custom auto to the local fix-it shop and say, “Can you hook a brother’s ride up?” now do you?
There has to be a place. People are always getting things done, under-the-table. Surely, this is no exception. Thinking fast, Parker assessed his list of friends, his social and business acquaintances—nothing and nobody came to mind. His mother, the social butterfly of another generation, represented another group, but again, nothing.
That left Desireé and a host of men and women who could and would do a lot of things for money. And if you paid them enough most of them would forget that they had done those things for you. And Parker Reynolds had plenty of money.
I just need to call Desireé and make some kind of arrangement , he thought. I’ll have to be careful, though, because she’s going to love having the chance to get her hooks into me again, but if I can lead her on just long enough to get what I need…
“Doctor?” The young intern’s curious green eyes peered over her surgical mask. “Is there a problem?”
“No problem at all,” Reynolds snapped. “I have everything under control.” Looking around for his waiting team, he felt control reassert itself over his domain. Buoyed by renewed confidence, he lifted his head and strode toward the surgical arena.
Passing two blue-gowned men assigned to his team, the surgeon heard their hushed comments. “I hear he’s the best,” said one. “In a case this severe, what do you think he’s going to do?”
I’m going in there to do what only I can do for her . Parker smiled and kept walking.
Chapter 5
Lost in a thick black vortex edged with light, Marlea struggled to reach the edges, to touch the brightness, and was rewarded with the sound of voices. All around her in the shifting morass, echoing and resounding, Marlea couldn’t quite make out what they were saying. Trying to sift
Reynolds’s eyes went back to the sink, but he refused to give in to the urge to scrub his already scourged skin one more time. Washing your hands is not going to wake her or make her whole again. Washing your hands is not going to ever cleanse them of her blood. Ever.
Why did the nagging voice in his head insist on sounding like Desireé Johnson? He could hear the lip-smacking tartness of her lazy drawl in every word. Great. Now she’s not only suing me, she’s also going to be the voice of my conscience?
Aw, hell, no!
I’m a doctor, a very good doctor, and I’m not going to second-guess myself on this. I’ll do what I have to do to make up for what happened to this woman, but I can’t…I won’t let her or Desireé cost me the life I’m entitled to. It was an accident, damn it. I’m sorry it happened. I’m sorry if this Marlea Kellogg has to go through some pain, but at least she’s alive. I’ll help her if I can, but that’s it. Determined, Parker stood straighter and accepted the surgical gloves he was offered.
I shouldn’t have let my mind wander, and…My car! The Corniche was parked in his designated slot at the hospital, but how long would it take for someone to look at the car and ask the logical questions?
It didn’t look bad when I checked it, just surface damage to the fender, but I was in a hurry. What if I missed something? What if it’s worse than I thought? A hand-built custom Corniche is not the kind of car you allow to get scuffed, scraped, or dirty. What if one of these nosy people checks it? What if they find damage? And when they do and they ask questions, what will I say? Oh, that little ding? I hit, ran, nearly killed a woman, and scraped my car up in the process?
But to have the bodywork done…where can I take it? After all, you don’t casually take a quarter-million-dollar custom auto to the local fix-it shop and say, “Can you hook a brother’s ride up?” now do you?
There has to be a place. People are always getting things done, under-the-table. Surely, this is no exception. Thinking fast, Parker assessed his list of friends, his social and business acquaintances—nothing and nobody came to mind. His mother, the social butterfly of another generation, represented another group, but again, nothing.
That left Desireé and a host of men and women who could and would do a lot of things for money. And if you paid them enough most of them would forget that they had done those things for you. And Parker Reynolds had plenty of money.
I just need to call Desireé and make some kind of arrangement , he thought. I’ll have to be careful, though, because she’s going to love having the chance to get her hooks into me again, but if I can lead her on just long enough to get what I need…
“Doctor?” The young intern’s curious green eyes peered over her surgical mask. “Is there a problem?”
“No problem at all,” Reynolds snapped. “I have everything under control.” Looking around for his waiting team, he felt control reassert itself over his domain. Buoyed by renewed confidence, he lifted his head and strode toward the surgical arena.
Passing two blue-gowned men assigned to his team, the surgeon heard their hushed comments. “I hear he’s the best,” said one. “In a case this severe, what do you think he’s going to do?”
I’m going in there to do what only I can do for her . Parker smiled and kept walking.
Chapter 5
Lost in a thick black vortex edged with light, Marlea struggled to reach the edges, to touch the brightness, and was rewarded with the sound of voices. All around her in the shifting morass, echoing and resounding, Marlea couldn’t quite make out what they were saying. Trying to sift
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