* * *
Nate didn’t particularly want to be back in California, even though he’d grown up here and his parents now lived up in San Francisco. He hadn’t been back to California since he’d started medical school, and that had been years ago.
He hadn’t been in California since the accident. Since Serena had died when they’d been rock climbing on El Capitan in Yosemite National Park. He just couldn’t be in the place where they’d fallen in love, the place where they’d lived for the rush, whether it had been surfing breakers in the Pacific Ocean, skiing at Mammoth Mountain or rock climbing.
Serena had been an adrenaline junkie, just like him.
And then, on a climb they’d done a hundred times before, a rope had given way and Serena had fallen.
His guilt still ate at him. He was so certain he’d checked all those clips, tightened the rope, but he couldn’t recall actually doing it and her death weighed on him.
He’d realized then how recklessly he’d been living. So he’d taken the scholarship at Harvard and thrown himself into schooling. Nate had sworn over Serena’s coffin that he would become the best damn transplant surgeon, focusing a lot of his research on regeneration and the means to sustain life longer when there were no viable donors.
People died every day while they waited on the transplant list.
Serena had died while she’d waited.
Don’t think about her now.
Nate stared at the chart, at the scans they’d done on Kyle when he’d been admitted to The Hollywood Hills Clinic.
Dang. She was right.
Kyle needed a left ventricular assist device and he needed one right away. She was watching him as he scanned Kyle’s chart. He snuck a glance, just a brief glance, at her and he tried not to smile. He didn’t want to give her an inch.
She was feisty. There was a certain passion hidden deep in that petite frame. Her skin was almost flawless and her long black hair shone in the tight braid down her back, except for the few stray wisps that floated around her perfect oval face. Her eyes were dark brown, like chocolate, and they glinted as she watched him. Her full ruby lips were pressed together firmly, as if she was waiting for the moment to smirk at him when he announced that she’d been right.
Dr. Florence Chiu was intelligent, gorgeous and full of life. She didn’t back down from him, even though he towered over her five-foot-five frame at six feet.
If he hadn’t sworn off the idea of women in general, he would pursue a woman just like Dr. Chiu. He liked a bit of wildness as well as the fact she was a transplant surgeon. It was as if she was the perfect woman for him.
Don’t think about her like that.
Just from a quick moment in Flo’s presence he realized that she was a danger to his well-being. He was not looking for love.
He’d been hurt before. His heart had shattered when Serena had died, so Flo was off-limits. He was here to work. He was here for his patient and that’s all that mattered. Being the foremost transplant surgeon on the east coast afforded him the ability to further his research on finding other means of sustaining organs or life while patients waited for organs.
All that mattered to Nate was his career and he had to remember that. Love was not for him. He didn’t deserve it.
He cleared his throat. “You’re right, Dr. Chiu. He does need a left ventricular assist device. I assume, since you were prepping for surgery, that you have one ready to go?”
Flo nodded. “Yes. I can prep the OR in about an hour and we can get him in there and hooked up to the equipment. I’m sorry that your trip to California was a waste.”
He cocked his head to one side and smiled at her. “Why is it a waste now?”
“Well, clearly I can handle this here. You came here and basically said I was right in the course of my treatment for Mr. Francis, so you can go back to New York.”
Such tenacity.
“Oh, Dr. Chiu. I’m not heading anywhere. Mr. Francis is my top priority. There are other surgeons in New York who can run my service while I’m here. I’m staying and I plan to be in that OR with you and assist you in implanting the LVAD.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“No. I never kid when it comes to my patients. I have been treating Mr. Francis for a couple of years. I’m the one who put him on the transplant list and I’ll be the one performing his transplant, even if that means I’ll be spending years in California. I’m not leaving his side.”
Her mouth had opened to say something else when alarms went off and a code blue was called in Kyle’s suite. They ran into the suite and a nursing team was already working over him.
“He’s crashing, Dr. Chiu!” Nurse Olivia Dempsey called out as she lowered the bed and the rest of the team rushed in with an AED and tray of instruments.
Flo jumped into action, rapidly firing off instructions as Kyle Francis flatlined. Nate wasn’t leaving his patient.
He wasn’t going anywhere. Even if it meant staying in California. Even if it meant being tempted constantly by Dr. Chiu. He was made of strong mettle. He could resist temptation.
Couldn’t he?
DON’T DIE. DON’T DIE.
Flo glanced up at the monitors as she worked on Kyle Francis, and she tried not to think about the fact that Dr. Nate King was standing on the opposite side of the bed, working with her as they tried to stabilize him. If Kyle died, he’d judge her. He seemed like the arrogant type who would put the blame on her when really it was the management team that Kyle employed who would be at fault. They were the ones who’d put a stop to her helping him right away, insisting that Dr. King be flown in.
Making her and Kyle wait.
That wouldn’t have happened if she’d been allowed to put in the left ventricular assist device when Kyle had first come in, and she was going to make sure that Freya and James Rothsberg both knew that. Especially if Kyle died.
Come on.
Right now she’d like to throttle that acting management team. Their delay might’ve cost Kyle his life.
“Come on,” she whispered under her breath as she pictured all the thousand ways she’d torture Kyle’s managers.
There was a bleep from the monitor as the sensor picked up a faint pulse. Flo gave an inward sigh of relief. Thoughts of murder and disemboweling some Hollywood yuppies dissipating for now.
“Good job, everyone!” She took off her latex gloves as the nursing team stepped in to make sure that Kyle didn’t code again. “I need this man prepped and ready for surgery. I’m on my way to get an OR prepped. I want a repeat of his labs drawn.”
“Yes, Dr. Chiu,” said Olivia.
“Make sure that I’m informed of those labs as well, Nurse,” Nate said, not even glancing in the direction of Flo’s favorite transplant nurse.
Olivia looked at Flo for confirmation and she nodded.
Flo glanced at Nate, who was scowling as he monitored Kyle’s vitals. She thought maybe she could sneak past him. She didn’t want to deal with arrogance this minute. Moments like that just brought back the vivid memories of the time she’d collapsed during band practice. When her kidney had failed her at fourteen and she had been rushed to hospital.
They