Undercover M.D.

The fire in her eyes had him feeling nostalgic despite the sharpness in her voice. There was a time when he would have warmed himself at that fire, rather than feel it as a threat. “I know better than to be lured into a fight with you, Alix.”

She resisted the temptation to tell him to call her Dr. DuCane. She wanted no more familiarity between them than was absolutely necessary. “Oh, really? I wouldn’t have thought you knew anything about me at all.”

Terrance looked around for someplace more private. “Look, I—”

Whatever he had to say, she didn’t want to hear it. There was nothing that could be said to whitewash what had happened six years ago.

“Why don’t you make yourself useful and take the patient to Bed K?” It was not a suggestion, but an order, issued crisply. “I’ll be around if you need me.”

Terrance remembered how she used to say that to him when they were studying for their MCATS. She’d always been the better student. The familiar phrase brought a smile to his lips. “Just like old times.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Nothing at all like old times,” she informed him tersely. “Bed K,” she repeated, pointing toward the general area as she walked away. “The nurse said he has projectile vomiting, so I’d stand clear if I were you.”

As Alix rounded the desk at the nurse’s station, Wanda made a comment. “Seems to be sparks flying between you and that new miracle worker.”

Alix punched her ID into the computer. A screen popped up, and she began a search for information she needed to treat one of the patients she’d admitted early this morning.

God, this was all she needed, hospital gossip. “No sparks, Wanda.”

The woman snorted. “Didn’t look that way from where I was standing.”

Alix slanted a quick glance in her direction. “Then I’d say that you were obviously standing in the wrong place.”

“Yes, Doctor.” Wanda’s tone was sing-songy and falsely deferential.

Alix looked up from the screen, flashing a contrite smile. “Sorry, Wanda. I didn’t mean to snap.”

“No,” Wanda readily agreed, “you didn’t. Need to talk?”

That was the last thing Alix wanted to do. The less said about Terrance, the better. “No.”

But Wanda wasn’t put off. Cocking her head, she crossed her arms before her ample chest. “I’ve got three kids and a passel of grandkids, Doctor D. I know when someone needs to talk.”

Alix looked at her for a long moment, then sighed. “Maybe I can’t.”

“Now that’s different,” the older woman allowed. “I can understand that.” She gave Alix’s shoulder a maternal pat. “But don’t hold it in too long, Dr. D., or you’re liable to explode. And I’m not cleaning up that mess when you do.” Her pseudo-serious warning faded as she studied Alix. Something was most definitely going on here. She was far too good a judge of human nature not to notice. “In case you’re wondering, he seems to have a good bedside manner.”

“No.” Alix’s fingers flew over the keyboard. “I wasn’t wondering.”

From the way Wanda smiled, it seemed she was willing to bet that Alix knew all about Terrance McCall’s bedside manner firsthand.

“I meant with your patient’s father. Just because they issue someone a stethoscope doesn’t mean they know how to handle people. Sometimes the best medicine they can dispense is a dose of hope, even if there’s not much available.”

Alix nodded dismissively. Wanda was right. A good bedside manner was a much-underrated ability. But right now she wasn’t willing to give Terrance any accolades, deserved or otherwise. Finding what she needed on the computer, she made a mental note and logged off.

“You’ve got my number if you change your mind,” Wanda called after her.

That made two people who’d offered her a shoulder to cry on, she thought, walking away. Not that she was going to take either of them up on it. She’d cried herself out a long time ago. There were literally no tears left. Not for anything.

If there had been, she would have shed them for the little girl she’d worked on.

Since the turmoil in the E.R. had gone down a notch after Reese had taken Wendy Carey up into surgery, Alix decided that it wouldn’t hurt anything to stop by the small chapel on the premises before she went on with her duties.

And maybe it would even help a little—both her and the little girl. Involuntarily her thoughts turned to Terrance’s sudden reappearance. She could do with a little something extra on her side right now.

“So how’s it going?”

Rounding a corner, Terrance stopped short. He’d almost walked directly into a dark-haired, cocky-looking orderly wielding a cart of empty lunch trays.

He recognized the voice even before he looked at the man. Terrance smiled wearily.

“That stint in Argentina’s beginning to look better and better in comparison all the time. At least no one threw up on me in Buenos Aires.”

True to Alix’s prediction, the patient in Bed K had vomited all over him. An hour and one change of clothes later, he still felt the smell of the incident clinging to him. It was a hell of a start.

Riley Sanchez, a perfect blend of an Irish mother and a Spanish father, flashed a row of brilliantly white teeth. “But you’ve got to admit that the scenery’s nicer here.” Riley leaned in closer, lowering his voice. “Have you checked out some of the nurses?”

“We’re not here to check out nurses, remember?”

“Can’t help it if they walk into my line of vision.” Riley’s grin broadened. “I noticed that the lady doctor they assigned you to isn’t exactly someone who’d stop a clock. That’s one fine-looking woman.”

Riley’s laid-back, easygoing demeanor belied the sharp mind that lay beneath. Nothing worth noting ever got past Riley, which was what made him so good at his job. His humor made him an asset when times got tough. But right now Terrance was in no mood for any of his partner’s witticisms.

Riley saw the way Terrance’s jaw tightened at the mention of his guide. “Something wrong?”

He didn’t feel like getting into it, certainly not here. “No.”

Like a dog with a bone, Riley didn’t let go. “Well, it’s not right,” he observed. He stopped, thinking of the man they suspected. “She’s not connected to…?”

“No,” Terrance said firmly, “she’s not.”

That much he knew. Alix couldn’t and wouldn’t be involved in the reason he and Riley were here. Alix DuCane was as honest as they came, incapable of lying or anything more serious. He’d stake his life on it. Some things, no matter what, just didn’t change.

Shifting, Riley studied him. “Judging by the way you just said that, you’re pretty certain. It’s too soon for you to have bonded with the lovely lady doctor, which means that you know her from a previous life.”

Terrance took the high road and dismissed Riley’s words at face value. “I’m not into reincarnation.”

“Neither am I. I was talking about the life we had before we sold our souls to the agency.”

“Go do a profile on someone else, Riley.” The subject was closed.

Riley nodded, backing off for now. He’d worked with McCall off and on over the past six years, the last two steadily. He knew it would do no good to press Terrance, who came around according to his own timetable.

“That’s what they pay me for.” Riley glanced over his shoulder and saw the head nurse was looking his way. She didn’t look pleased. “Time to get busy.”

Terrance sighed, thinking of the afternoon that was ahead. His endless days and nights as an intern came rushing vividly back at him. “I never stopped.”

“Catch you later,” Riley murmured, beginning to guide the cart toward the service elevators and ultimately the kitchen located in the basement. “Don’t look now, but your lady friend is walking this way.”