Lightning Strikes Part 3
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Mary Lynn Baxter
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Harlequin🏰 Historical
HarlequinChapter Nineteen
Noah Howell’s irritability was high.
The doctor rubbed his hand across his rough cheek and chin, uncomfortable with the itch caused by a long overdue shave. Maybe he ought to take this spare minute allotted him by fate and take care of that problem.
However, first things first: his mother. He needed to talk to Melissa, to let her know he had heard his sister Randi’s voice and that after running away from her own wedding, she was at least alive. He also needed to check on Melissa herself, the feeling of misplaced loyalty beginning to rear its ugly head.
Dammit, he was concerned for his family’s welfare, though he had to admit actions spoke louder than words. Hopefully, Melissa had remained at the inn and not tried to return home in this weather. Grand Springs was having torrential rains, with nonstop thunder and lighting. The power was still out across most of the city and the hospital ER has been crazy. Knowing his mother, she could jump either way. She was one stubborn woman, especially when she thought it would give her leverage over him.
Noah punched out the numbers to Squaw Creek Lodge, where Randi’s wedding was to take place, but the static was so severe that even if he got through, he wouldn’t hear a damn thing.
He slammed his smart phone down, feeling his irritation climb even higher. He had to get a grip on himself or he was bound to make a mistake in surgery, something he couldn’t afford, not at any cost.
Peering down at his hands and seeing that they were shaking did little to improve his disposition. If someone else saw him, doctor or nurse, they would think he was hitting the booze. He was drunk, all right, only not from booze.
Fatigue and anger provided him with a high that booze couldn’t touch. He was walking an emotional tightrope. Any moment, he expected to topple off and crash.
He had managed to let his personal life sneak into his professional one. However, he forced his work to take precedence.
The Collier youngster was first on his rounds.
Laura. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl. And she might not live through the day. Frankly, he was surprised she’d made it this far after such a horrific car accident.
Noah lifted his head, struggling against the rising tide of emotion in his throat. Physical pain and death surrounded him on a daily basis. That he could handle—what he’d been trained to handle. But this emotional tug-of-war going on inside his gut was another matter.
He had thought he’d been strong enough to deal with it. He’d been wrong. Dead wrong. Still, he had no choice but to go forward with his life, with his career. While that all sounded well and good, he didn’t want to go forward, dammit! He wanted to go back to Amanda and take up where they had left off.
“And people in hell want ice water, too, Howell,” he muttered. Only they weren’t going to get it, and neither was he. Amanda had found someone else. His gut twisted at the thought. But he had to face that fact and deal with it.
How? Now that he could put a name with a face actually made it worse. Disgusted with himself, he strode into the bathroom where he began to shave, still surprised he hadn’t been called to surgery, even with Malcom Riley on duty.
Typically, Saturdays weren’t noted for emergencies either in surgery or in the ER. But this Saturday was an exception as the town remained in a blackout crisis. Though at the moment, the rain had slowed, somewhat.
Noah stared at his face in the mirror and would’ve laughed if it hadn’t been so tragic. He looked awful, like he and the bottle were having an affair.
Spitting a wad of cream out of his mouth, he began shaving. Shortly, he ran his fingers over his face and felt better. His hair, however, was a lost cause. It was too long and too unruly, but until this siege ended, he’d have to let that go, something he’d bet Amanda’s new squeeze wouldn’t do.
Why, pretty-boy Gordon looked like he’d just stepped out of GQ. Noah made a noise that bordered on a grunt. Nothing had been out of place, not one stitch of clothing, certainly not one hair on old Gordon’s head. God forbid.
He’d bet Gordon even ironed his underwear.
Another sharp pang hit him. The thought of Amanda doing the things to and with another man that they had shared was threatening to drive him nuts, not to mention the blood-letting in his gut.
Was she going to marry Gordon? Most likely, so Noah had best get used to the idea. Or better yet, he could stop fighting Riley for chief of surgery and go to another hospital. There were plenty who would take him on staff.
No. He’d come back to Grand Springs, to Vanderbilt, and he intended to stay. Somehow, he’d get over Amanda, and if he didn’t—well, he’d have to live with that.
After all, he was the one who had screwed up, the one who had ruined the best thing that had ever happened to him. Some sins you never get over paying for, he reminded himself with brutal honesty.
Still, she wasn’t married yet. Noah brightened at that fact. And he knew Amanda still cared about him, at least sexually. That was a start. He definitely knew which buttons to push to unleash the passion she kept hidden behind that cool, controlled facade.
He hated playing games, though. He had no patience for such foolishness. But after seeing her with another man, he knew he would do most anything to have her. So much for all that bull about his work being his only mistress.
He wanted Amanda so badly he could taste it—taste her.
Noah muttered another curse, then stomped back into the office just in time to see an incoming text on his phone, calling him to ICU, which meant the summons was serious.
He raced out the door, instinct telling him the Collier girl was in big trouble.
* * *
“Suction, please.”
Nurse Beth Randall did as she was told, then looked at the monitor, then back at Noah. “Her blood pressure’s dropping, Noah.”
Noah shouted another order, then went back to work, looking for the bleeding artery. He’d been right. When he’d reached the special care unit, Laura Collier had been at death’s door. She had started to bleed internally.
“Get her upstairs ASAP!” he’d shouted, then trotted alongside the gurney himself.
Now, as he worked fast and furiously to save the girl’s life, he muttered out loud, “Hang on, Laura. Don’t give up.”
“Her pressure’s dropping.”
Noah didn’t know who spoke this time as there was a team helping him. Sweat poured out of every pore in his body. The nurse wiped the moistness off his forehead.
“Increase the suction!” Noah ordered, determined not to lose this girl. He couldn’t, not when her parents were standing outside the glass staring at him, fear mingled with trust.
“Noah, she’s—”
“I found it,” Noah practically shouted. “Clamp.”
“We’re losing her!”
“No, we’re not!” Noah lashed back. “She’s going to make it.”
Noah worked harder, feeling the sweat ooze out of every nerve in his body. “Come on, come on.”
“Noah, she’s gone,” the other surgical nurse said in a sad but calm voice. “I’m sorry.”
“Paddles!” Noah said through clenched lips.
After trying for ten minutes, Noah finally called it. “Time of death…15:42pm.”
Too enraged over his inability to save her and too sick at heart for her parents, Noah kept silent. Without looking at anyone, he turned and strode out of the room.
Minutes later, having changed out of his bloody garments, he walked into the small, private waiting room. Mr. Collier had both arms around his wife, who was sobbing against his chest.
Noah touched them both on the shoulder. When they looked up, he said, “I’m sorry, folks. I did everything I could.”
Mr. Collier merely nodded. Noah sensed he was having difficulty speaking as his Adam’s apple was quivering. For his wife’s sake, he seemed to be holding back his own tears.
“You…did all you could,” he said, after coughing several times.
Mrs. Collier lifted her head, her face pinched with a kind of pain that only those who had lost a child could understand. He’d been down that road….
“Are you…you sure she’s gone, Doctor?” Her chin quivered. “Could…could there be a mistake? I mean—”
Noah shook his head, a lump in his own throat preventing him from speaking. Then, after swallowing hard, he said, “No, there’s no mistake.”
“I see,” she said in a breaking voice. “Then our precious baby is truly with the Lord.”
“That’s a beautiful thought, Mrs. Collier.”
“Thanks…thanks again, Doctor, for all you did.”
“I’m sorry it wasn’t enough,” he responded, averting his gaze away from the torment in the mother’s eyes. That was when he saw her.
Amanda stood on the threshold, staring at him.
* * *
No doctor who was worth his salt liked to lose a patient. Amanda took it personally, which made the loss a double whammy. Now, as she watched Noah, she saw a reflection of herself. To him, his failure seemed magnified, the in-your-face kind that slaps you around. Because he was the ultimate control freak and perfectionist combined, it hit him harder than most.
To his credit, though, he hadn’t lost many patients. In fact, they could probably be counted on one hand. Still, one was too many, especially if it was someone who had her entire life ahead of her, such as Laura Collier.
Having to tell the family further magnified the tragedy. That was why when she heard that Noah had lost the girl on the operating table, she hadn’t even stopped to consider her actions.
She was considering them now, as she saw the bleak frustration in his eyes. She questioned her own sanity. Noah wouldn’t want her sympathy. He was the last person she needed to console. He was the last person she needed to be around, for God’s sake.
She had just come from having lunch with a man who loved her and who had proposed to her. Gordon would never leave her like Noah did. Though she hadn’t said yes to Gordon, Amanda intended to, which made seeking out Noah more dangerous than trying to run on a layer of thin ice.
What had she been thinking? She hadn’t. That was the problem. What must he be thinking? Something she didn’t want him to, that was for sure. So what was the answer? Turn her butt around and go back to ER where she belonged and where she should never have left.
She swung around.
“Amanda.”
The low, guttural sound of his voice froze her in place, though she didn’t turn back around. She waited, her mind clamoring with the knowledge she was making a big mistake. Only after he reached her did she make a move.
He followed her, though neither said a word. Once in the hall, she began walking. He matched her step-by-step until she stopped and stared up at him. “Look, Noah—”
It happened so fast that she couldn’t have prevented it even if she’d had warning. Making a feral sound, he grabbed her by the arm, then with his free hand opened the door nearest them, which happened to be a linen closet, and pushed her inside.
“What?”
“Shh, don’t talk.”
“But—”
This time his lips cut off her words as they slanted over hers with unerring and hot accuracy.
For a horrified moment, Amanda was too stunned to react. Taking advantage of that weakness, he delved his tongue into her mouth. She squirmed and tried to turn her head, but to no avail. Her head and back merely clashed with the solidity of the wall behind her.
Using her inability to go anywhere as an added advantage, his fingers strayed to the exposed column of her throat. She jerked her lips from beneath his.
“Noah—” she cried, her breathing laboring along with her heart, “this is…crazy.”
“Crazy or not, we both want it.”
“No.”
“Yes,” he ground out, dipping his hand inside her blouse.
The room spun. She had to stop him, she told herself, but she didn’t have the strength or the ammunition, not when he was touching her like this. Besides, her body was betraying her, the softness of her blouse giving way to allow his hand to have freedom to probe, to roam at will.
“You want me. Admit it,” he whispered.
“Noah—”
He ignored his name that came out on a sob, too busy lifting her hand to her breasts, then covering that hand with one of his own.
Oh, God! Amanda felt as if all the air had been sucked from her body.
“Now, can you deny it?” he rasped. “Your nipples are betraying you.”
“Please—” she begged, but for what she didn’t know.
“Please what? Please touch you here? And here?” His voice had taken on a feverish pitch.
He shoved back her coat, then placed his fingers at the top of her blouse and yanked. Buttons popped, then pinged on the floor, freeing her breasts and stomach.
She cried out in protest, but it failed to deter his hands and lips from seeking the bare, heated flesh. Trembling all over, she fought the emotions rising inside her, knowing now she’d already lost the battle.
She ached to give in, especially when his breath mingled with hers at the same time a hand ran down her leg and lifted her skirt.
Her eyes fluttered shut as he continued to tease, to nibble at her lips, feeling confident that he was in control of this sexual game.
But she knew he was not without his own vulnerabilities, that much of his so-called control had underpinnings of clay. Like hers, his senses were boiling, and only when he was inside her would he be satisfied.
And he didn’t let up. He continued to torment them both, thrusting his hips against hers. She felt his arousal hard and full when he began moving, rubbing…
The movement was like a sudden, static shock. Their groans became one as she stopped fighting, giving in to the needs invading her body. He’d won. On fire, and throwing caution to the wind, she imprisoned his tongue in her mouth and sucked.
“Amanda!” he groaned later.
It was in that moment she felt his fingers nudge her legs apart.
