Read Online Obsession (Southern Comfort) by Lisa Clark O'Neill - Free Book Online Page A

the past couple weeks she’d made no secret of her “mad crush.”  He then turned to address Natasha, who was sitting cross-legged and fully dressed in jeans, boots and a sweater, on the bed. She was a little pale still, and certainly leaner, but on the whole she looked remarkably well considering what she’d been through.
    His mouth snapped close d as he noticed her hair.
    “You like it, Doctor Wellington?” She reached up to run her hand over the bright blue streaks emanating from each temple.  “ Shelley brought some stuff over and helped me color it in the bathroom. God knows I needed some color somewhere.”
    Justin was pretty sure that had broken some sort of hospital policy, but to be honest, he didn’t much care.  It obviously made her feel better, and outlook was critically important when recovering from a life-threatening event and subsequent surgery.
    “It’s very becoming,” he told her.
    “Oooh, don’t you just love the way he talks,” Shelley cooed.
    “You’re embarrassing him,” Hannah chided, leaning her platinum head toward Shelley. Justin felt ridiculous.  None of the three women could be a day older than twenty-two.  He was at least a decade their senior.  And he was a medical professional, for cripes’ sake.
    “I brought you a going home present.” Justin sat the happy little flower on the tray beside Natasha’s bed, causing the other girls to go into raptures. 
    Natasha burst out in tears.
    “I’m sorry,” Justin said, hastily passing her the box of tissues off the tray.
    “No, no.”  Natasha waved her hands in front of her face. “It’s so sweet.  Thank you.  You saved my life.  I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
    “ Your surgeon might have something to say about me getting all the credit.”  In more familiar territory, Justin patted her arm.  “It’s pretty common for post-surgical patients to experience emotional upheaval and a certain amount of instability, especially given the nature of your wounds.  It’s normal and generally temporary.  I’m sure you’ve been given exit paperwork regarding what to do and who to contact, however, if these feelings seem to worsen or persist?”
    “Yes, yes. My sister has it.  She – ”
    “Has it right here,” a voice said from behind him.  Justin turned to see Natasha’s older sister – Anne, if he remembered correctly – entering the room, holding aloft a folder with the hospital’s logo on it. In her other hand she clutched a briefcase. She looked like a considerably taller, more mature, more professional version of Natasha.  Minus the blue streaks, of course.
    “Sorry I’m late,” she said to her sister after she’d flashed a smile of greeting at Justin. Hannah and Shelley she basically ignored.  “I had a few errands to run after I left the office.” She laid the briefcase on the tray table.  “Why are you crying, sweetie?” She moved closer to Natasha, frowned briefly at her sister’s hair before running a well-manicured hand over it.
    “I don’t know.  Doctor Wellington brought me some flowers and I started bawling.  He said it’s normal.”  She hiccupped a sob again and Shelley stepped up beside the bed to hold her friend’s hand.
    Turning a slightly alarmed look on Justin, Anne motioned toward the hall.  “Would you mind terribly if I spoke with you for a moment?”
    “Not at all.” He followed her out the door.
    “She’s okay?” she asked him, nervously chewing on her lip.  “She’s never been given to histrionics.  Rebellion, yes.  Fits of, temper – her specialty.  But tears?  Not even when she was a little girl.  I’m sorry.” Her smile was rueful in her pretty, tastefully made-up face.  “Our parents died in a car crash a week before my nineteenth birthday.  Natasha was nine – the sole survivor of the crash.  I raised her from that point on, and I guess you could say I’ve been more mother than older sister.  A fact which has annoyed Natasha