Mack Carlton gave her another of those smiles that could melt the polar ice cap. “Besides,” he said, “we’re probably boring Dr. Browning to tears.”
Now there was a loaded statement if ever she’d heard one. She didn’t dare admit to being bored and risk insulting him more than she had when he’d first arrived and overheard her. Nor was she inclined to lie. Instead she forced a smile. “You did say you had a tight schedule.”
His grin spread. “So I did. Lead the way, Doctor.”
Relieved to have something concrete to do, she set off briskly through the corridors to the unit where twelve-year-old Tony had spent far too much of his young life.
“Tell me about Tony,” Mack suggested as they walked.
“He’s twelve and he has leukemia,” Beth told him, fighting to keep any trace of emotion from her voice. It was the kind of story she hated to tell, especially when the battle wasn’t being won. “It’s the third time it’s come back. This time he’s not responding so well to the chemotherapy. We’d hoped to get him ready for a bone marrow transplant, but we don’t have the right donor marrow, and because of his difficulty with the chemo, I’m not so sure it would be feasible for him right now anyway.”
Mack listened intently to everything she was saying. “His prognosis?”
“Not good,” she said tersely.
“And you’re taking it personally,” he said quietly.
Beth promptly shook her head. “I know I can’t win every battle,” she said, as she had to the psychologist who’d expressed his concern about her state of mind earlier in the day. Few people knew just how personally she took a case like Tony’s. She was surprised that Mack Carlton had guessed it so easily.
“But you hate losing,” Mack said.
“When it’s a matter of life and death, of course I do,” she said fiercely. “I went into medicine to save lives.”
“Why?” Before she could reply, he added, “I know it’s a noble profession, but dealing with sick kids has to be an emotional killer. Why you? Why this field?”
She was surprised that he actually seemed interested in her response. “I was drawn to it early on,” she said, aware that she was being evasive by suggesting that it hadn’t been the motivating force in her entire life. With any luck, Mack wouldn’t realize it.
“Because?” he prodded, not accepting the response at face value and proving once more that he was a more insightful man than she’d expected him to be.
“Why does it matter to you?” she asked, still dodging a direct answer to his question.
His eyes studied her intently. “Because it obviously matters to you.”
Once again his insight caught her off guard. It was evident he wasn’t going to let this go until he’d heard at least some version of the truth. “Okay, here it is in a nutshell. I had an older brother who died of leukemia when I was ten,” she told him, revealing more than she had to anyone other than her family. They knew all too well what her motivation had been for choosing medicine, and they didn’t entirely approve of her choice, fearing she was doomed to have repeated heartaches. “I vowed to save other kids like him.”
Mack regarded her with what appeared to be real sympathy. “Like I said, you take it personally.”
She sighed at the assessment. “Yes, I suppose I do.”
“How long do you think you can keep it up, if you take every case to heart?”
“As long as I have to,” she insisted tightly. “I only see a few patients. Most of my time is spent in research. Our treatments are getting better and better all the time.” Sadly, Tony wasn’t responding well to any of them, which was why she’d taken such an intense interest in his case.
“But not with Tony,” Mack said.
Beth fought against the salty sting of unexpected tears. “Not with Tony, at least not yet,” she admitted softly. Then she set her jaw and regarded Mack defiantly, blinking back those tell-tale tears. “But we’re going to win this battle, too.”
He gave her an admiring look. “Yes, I think you will,” he said quietly. “Will my being here actually help Tony?”
“Hopefully it will improve his spirits,” Beth assured him. “He’s been a little down lately, and sometimes boosting a child’s morale is the most important thing we can do. We need to keep him from giving up on himself or on us.”
Mack nodded. “Okay, then. Let’s go in there and talk football.” He gave her an impudent grin. “I assume you won’t be saying much.”
Beth laughed despite herself, liking Mack far more than she’d ever expected to. She could forgive a lot in a person who had a sense of humor, whether about her foibles or his own. “Probably not.”
His expression sobered. “Good. What I do for a living may not be medicine or rocket science, but I’d hate to have you dismiss it in front of a kid who thinks it matters.”
Beth stared at him as his point struck home. Her opinion of football or of Mack Carlton didn’t matter right now. “Touché, Mr. Carlton. I’ll definitely refrain from comment. This is all about Tony.”
He winked. “Call me Mack. My fans do.”
“I’m not one of your fans.”
“Stick around,” he taunted lightly. “You might be, after this.”
Beth bit back a sigh. Yes, she could be, she admitted to herself. Not that Mighty Mack Carlton needed another conquest in his life. The gossip columns were littered with the names of women who thought they had the inside track in his life. She’d noticed that few of them ever got a second mention. She wasn’t the least bit inclined to test her luck in an already crowded field.
“Don’t hold your breath, Mr. Carlton. Besides, the only person whose adoration counts is Tony, and you’ve already got a lock on that.”
“I wouldn’t mind at least a hint of approval from you, too,” he said, his gaze capturing hers and holding it.
Despite the obvious attempt to disconcert her, Beth felt herself falling under his spell. She found it irritating. “Why? Do you have to win over every woman you meet?”
He hesitated then, and an odd look that might have been confusion flickered in his eyes. “How well do you know my aunt?” he asked.
The out-of-the-blue question caught her off guard. “Your aunt?”
“Destiny Carlton, the woman you contacted who made sure I came over here today.”
Beth shook her head. “I don’t believe we’ve met,” she said. “Though I recognize the name. I think she raises a lot of money for the hospital. I never spoke to her, though.”
Mack seemed surprised. “You really don’t know her?”
“No.”
“And you didn’t call her?”
“No. Why?”
He shook his head, obviously more puzzled than ever. “Doesn’t matter.”
Despite his denial, Beth got the distinct impression that it mattered a lot. She simply had no idea why.
Mack had been in his share of hospital rooms. He’d had enough football injuries to guarantee that—including one final blown-out knee that had ended his career on the field. Granted, his life had never been on the line, but even so, he hated the antiseptic smell, the too-perky nurses, the beeps and whirring of machines, the evasiveness of the