“Hi, Emily,” she whispered, smoothing the young girl’s blonde hair away from her face with a tender, caring touch. “Did you know your brother Tristan is here, too? He’s right down the hall. He’ll be in to visit you very soon. He told me to tell you he loves you. Tristan loves you, Emily.” Naomi’s voice broke and she blinked away tears. “You’re going to feel better soon, you’ll see.”
His heart lodged in his throat. The compassion on her face tugged at him. He wanted to go to her, to wrap her in his arms and hold her close. Naomi didn’t just care about a young patient, this was something more. The wistful expression full of love and caring in her eyes reminded him all too well of the way Gabrielle had looked when she’d held their daughter in her arms.
He shook his head. What was wrong with him? He shouldn’t be attracted to Naomi, especially not when in that fleeting moment the keen compassion in her eyes had reminded him of his wife.
Gabrielle and Sarah deserved better than to be shoved aside and forgotten.
He turned away, tearing his gaze from Naomi. Somehow, some way, he had to find a way to keep the pretty surgeon at a safe distance. So she didn’t threaten his sanity.
CHAPTER FOUR
NAOMI returned to the hospital at five o’clock that evening to start her overnight call shift. When she arrived in the PICU, Rick didn’t smile but gave her a reserved nod.
“Ready to make rounds?” he asked.
“Sure.” She frowned as they walked toward the first patient’s room, sending him a sidelong glance. Had she done something to make him angry?
“Justin Wright has a sixteen-year-old gunshot wound to the belly and was admitted the night before last, on Debra’s shift.” Rick’s voice was devoid of all emotion—he could have been reciting from an encyclopedia rather than describing a patient’s condition. “He’s running a fever so I switched his antibiotics this morning. If he doesn’t improve, he may need to go back to surgery to have his abdomen explored.”
“All right.” She made a notation on her sheet. They moved down to the next patient’s room. He continued talking in that same monotone voice, describing the current treatment regime for Jimmy and Chelsey Dupont, two of the patients she’d admitted the night before. As they made their way through the unit, Rick’s demeanor never changed. It was as if the moments they had spent together during last night’s crisis and their earlier lunch had never happened.
She reminded herself it was for the best. Rick was her boss. A professional relationship was the only thing they could ever share. Hadn’t she learned her lesson with Andrew?
Men wanted more than she could give.
Rick paused outside Tristan’s doorway. The teen was agitated, his sheets tangled around his limbs, his heart rate tipping over one hundred. His left femur with the open fracture was suspended from the traction pole above his bed, and she didn’t like the way he twisted and turned, as if trying to get away.
“Has he had any sedation?” Rick asked Angie, the nurse on duty.
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