Undercover M.D.
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Marie Ferrarella
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Chapter 1
She didn’t make a sound.
Even so, she felt as if her whole body had just been turned inside out and twisted. Hard.
She pressed her lips together. A silent scream filled her.
One moment, Alix DuCane was sitting in the third floor conference room, trying not to nod off as the combination of lack of air and Blair Memorial’s chief of staff giving his weekly “informal” talk conspired to put her to sleep. The next, adrenaline was charging through her body like an F15 Tomcat the split second before it broke through the sound barrier.
And all because of the name that Dr. Beauchamp had just uttered. The name of the newest addition to the hospital’s pediatric ward. Dr. Terrance McCall.
It couldn’t be.
The words vibrated within her chest.
It couldn’t be.
Almost afraid to look, unconsciously holding her breath, Alix shifted her eyes to the right as she detected movement from that side of the room.
It couldn’t be, but it was.
Terrance.
Terry.
Oh God.
The breath in her throat caught there like a solid, immovable lump. She felt as if she was choking. For one frightening second, it was as if all the carefully reconstructed pieces of her once-shattered world threatened to crack apart again. The pieces she had worked so hard to put together after Terrance had vanished from her life, leaving her with haunting questions and a heart that ached so badly she was certain it would literally break.
“Alix, you okay?”
The whispered question came from her right, from Reese Bendenetti. The surgeon leaned forward as if to get a better look at her face.
Reese was as close a friend as she had at Blair. She appreciated his concern, but this was something she couldn’t share. Not yet.
Very carefully she took in a deep breath, trying not to appear as stunned, as upset as she was.
“Yes, I’m okay. Thanks for asking.” The quip lacked her usual verve. She hoped he wouldn’t notice. The last thing she wanted right now were more questions.
Reese looked from Alix’s face to the man who had come up to join Beauchamp at the podium. Blair’s newest physician was tall, blond and good-looking in a rugged sort of way.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Do you know him?”
“Yes,” she replied quietly, her mouth dry, her palms damp. “I know him.”
A ghost. It was a good way to describe Terrance, she thought. He was a ghost. A ghost from her past. Literally.
How many times had she wondered if he was dead? Had been convinced of it? Because if he were alive, she was certain Terrance would have gotten in touch with her, if only just once. He would have tried to explain how he could have gone from loving her, from being the center of her universe, to disappearing into some black hole, forever out of sight.
Wouldn’t he have at least tried?
Yet here he was, older, handsomer, looking for all the world as if he’d just been away on a long, extended vacation.
He was smiling.
Damn him to hell.
She felt Reese shifting beside her. “You want to go out for some air?” he prodded, his voice low as Beauchamp went on talking.
Alix had known Reese for five years, and they had been there for each other, through good times and bad. He knew her as well as anyone. In all that time, she knew he’d never seen her like this. Not even when Jeff, her husband of two years, had been killed in that boating accident.
Reese could no doubt see that the man at the front of the room had left one hell of a footprint on the beach of her life.
As if set on delayed reaction, Alix waved away his suggestion, never taking her eyes off the front of the room. Off Terrance.
“I’m okay,” she declared in a whisper that was a little too fierce to be true.
She wasn’t okay. But she was a survivor and she would be. Even now, she tried to tell herself, the shock of seeing Terrance after all these years was abating.
Her heart rate was returning to normal.
Alix took another deep breath and let it out slowly as she forced a smile to her lips. She turned to look at Reese. She could feel the waves of his concern washing over her. It helped. Some.
“Really,” she added with what she prayed was a convincing note.
Alix didn’t want to admit to anything being wrong. She was incredibly independent and incredibly proud. Any show of weakness was inexcusable. She prided herself on being there for people, not vice versa.
Resigned, he nodded. “Okay, but I’m here if you want to talk.”
Just as she had always been for him, Alix thought fondly. Fighting to rally and regain control over her emotions, she placed her hand over his and gave it an affectionate squeeze.
“Ditto.”
Reese shook his head. “I’m not the one who just turned whiter than fresh snow at Big Bear.”
And he wasn’t the one who had lost his heart, utterly and completely, to the man at the front of the room, she thought. A wave of bitterness struggled to take hold of her.
Terrance McCall had been her first love, her truest love, in the days when she believed that love made you invincible and that happy endings existed beyond the pages of fairy-tale books.
What are you doing here, Terrance? After all this time, what the hell are you doing here?
Willing herself into an almost coma-like state, Alix stared straight ahead and tried to listen to what was being said. Words kept bouncing off her ears, refusing to enter or register.
Dr. Clarence Beauchamp, whose skills as a surgeon, luckily for his patients, far surpassed his oratory abilities, was still meandering his way through the introduction.
“…and Boston General’s loss, of course, is Blair Memorial’s gain.”
The tall, portly man addressed the clichéd observation to both the young doctor standing beside him and the audience being held captive before him. Beauchamp’s small lips struggled to widen into the smile that was always larger than he was actually capable of accommodating.
“Of course, we show no favoritism here at Blair. All created equal and that sort of thing.” His clear blue eyes sparkled at what he must have deemed a display of wit. “Which means in your case, Dr. McCall, that you will be treated like a cross between a god-like healer and a fledgling intern. A situation,” he hastened to add in case he was ruffling the pediatrician’s feathers, “if your record is any indication, that will change quickly, I’m sure.”
“However, for the time being you are going to need someone to show you the ropes, so to speak.” Dr. Beauchamp looked pointedly around the sea of faces before him. “Someone in your department, of course. To that end, I have reviewed all the likely candidates and decided that your best bet…and ours—” he beamed again, his thin lips straining, all but disappearing into his smile “—is Dr. Alix DuCane.”
Surprise speared through Terrance.
He managed to retain the easy smile on his lips. But that had come from years of training. Years of knowing that one false, unguarded moment could cost him not only the success of the operation he was involved in, but perhaps even his very life. Or worse, the lives of others depending on him.
Alix DuCane? Here?
“Alix is one of the finest young physicians on the staff,” Beauchamp was saying. “No small compliment, considering that Blair Memorial was voted one of the finest hospitals not just in Southern California, but in the entire country. But you undoubtedly already know that, or you wouldn’t have chosen to transfer here in the first place. Am I right, Dr. McCall?”
“Absolutely,” Terrance agreed readily.
Beauchamp’s voice droned on like so much well-intended noise in the background as Terrance scanned the small, crowded room and the occupants who sat almost shoulder to shoulder in the twelve rows of chairs arranged before the podium.
Accustomed to zeroing in on his target with skilled precision, Terrance found Alix in less than two beats of his admittedly agitated heart.
For a split second everything around him froze as he looked at her.
She was sitting beside a dark, good-looking man. From his vantage point, Terrance could see her hand was covering the man’s.
Friend?
Lover?
Once, he’d been both of those to her and more. So much more.
But that was in the past, Terrance reminded himself sternly, and this was the present. A present where he couldn’t afford to allow his emotions to get in the way of things…the way he had once allowed his emotions to bring him into this chosen profession of his. A profession that had forced him to turn his back on everything and everyone else who had been important before.
A profession that had forced him to turn his back on Alix.
She looked pale. Shock. Small wonder if it was in response to seeing him. He felt the same way about seeing her. It was only his survival instincts that prevented him from showing it.
Even pale seemed to suit her, Terrance couldn’t help thinking.
God, was it possible that Alix had grown even more heart-stoppingly gorgeous than when he had left? It appeared that the wildflower had bloomed into an exquisite orchid.
Whose life did she adorn?
Not your concern, he told himself. He’d given up the right to know, when he’d left town.
When he’d left her.
With effort Terrance roused himself, forcing his mind back to the droning voice beside him and the man who was trying his level best to make the transition easier for him.
If Beauchamp only knew….
But he didn’t. A great many people had gone through a great deal of pain to ensure that. Beauchamp, along with the others, was going to be kept in the dark until the operation was over. With any luck, that would be soon.
Beauchamp took a deep breath as he ended his narrative. “Is there anything you’d like to say or add, Dr. McCall?”
Yes, Terrance thought, there was something he’d like to say. But not to the crowd of physicians looking at him. Not even to Alix. His words would have been directed to his immediate superior, uttered in quiet, steely tones and demanding to know why someone hadn’t thought to let him know that he was going to be coming in contact with a vital portion of his past. That he was going to be coming in contact with the only woman he had ever loved.
Because no one knew, that’s why, he reminded himself. He’d left his past behind the day he’d walked away. Still, he wished that he’d somehow been forewarned, had thought to go over the hospital roster before he’d walked through Blair’s doors.
Too late now.
He could only make the best of the situation and hope that damage control would do the rest.
Terrance’s mouth curved in an easy smile that gave absolutely no indication of the inner turmoil he was attempting to quell.
He leaned over the small, unnecessary microphone that Beauchamp had insisted on using. “Just that I hope to live up to the standards that the name of Blair Memorial Hospital has come to represent.”
Like a proud father receiving a compliment about his favorite child, Beauchamp beamed.
“I’m sure you will, my boy.” The chief of staff laid a paternal hand on Terrance’s shoulder. “I’m sure you will.” His eyes swept over the room and its occupants. “Well, that’s it, ladies and gentlemen, meeting’s adjourned. Go back to saving lives and being miracle workers.”
Beauchamp chuckled at his trademark closing line. Then he raised his voice to be heard above the mounting din. “Alix, would you mind joining us?” He beckoned her forward.
Reese looked at her pointedly as he rose. “Call me,” he told her firmly. “Night or day.”
As if she would intrude on his life now that he was a married man. “London might have something to say about that,” she reminded him.
At the mention of his wife’s name, Reese grinned. Married just three months and he’d perpetually been in this state of grace that caused him to laugh to himself at unexpected, sporadic moments. As if he’d no idea that a person could feel this good and not be dreaming.
“Yes, ‘Come on over,’ if I know her.”
Alix merely nodded. He was probably right. The daughter of the ambassador to Spain had captured her best friend’s heart the instant she’d been wheeled into the emergency room last year. She was a warm, vibrant woman who had a great ability to empathize and give comfort. The two firmly deserved each other.
And what do you deserve? Alix thought as she approached the front of the room, her eyes fixed on Beauchamp and not Terrance. Certainly not to have my heart whacked around like a giant Ping-Pong ball at some phantom gaming table.
I’m over you, Terrance. I’m over you.
She silently chanted the refrain over and over again in her mind like a life-giving mantra as her steps brought her closer to the two men.
She wished she’d called in sick today. Played hooky and stayed home with her daughter. But that would have meant that Norma would have found out. The very woman who now baby-sat her child had once baby-sat her, as well. And if Norma knew something, it was only a matter of time before her father found out as well. The woman had been his housekeeper for forty years.
Daniel DuCane wouldn’t have said anything to her about her lapse, but she knew he would have been disappointed that she would flaunt the principles to which he had dedicated his life all these years. After all, it was because her father was a doctor that she had become one, too.
“Dr. Terrance McCall,” Beauchamp gestured from Terrance to Alix as he made the formal introduction, “This is Dr. Alix DuCane, and any compliment I could give her wouldn’t be nearly enough.”
“No, it wouldn’t be,” Terrance agreed, his voice a cross between being amiably impersonal and intimately warm—a trick, Alix felt, that only he could pull off.
It was time to turn the herd before it stampeded out of control and ran through the town, trampling the citizens, Alix thought. She turned toward her superior, ignoring Terrance.
“Dr. Beauchamp, I really don’t think I’m the best one for this assignment.”
“Did I mention that she was also modest?” Beauchamp asked Terrance. “Dedicated, skilled, modest, don’t know how we got so lucky. Nonsense, Dr. DuCane, you are most definitely the best one for the assignment. Besides, if only half of what I was told is correct, Dr. McCall won’t require much hand holding.” The older man, a grandfather five times over, chuckled to himself. “At least, not during official hours.”
Once the words were uttered, Beauchamp must have realized the way they could be construed. His eyes slid over Alix’s face nervously as if to see whether he had gone too far in his comment.
Alix knew the man meant no offense. Clarence Beauchamp wasn’t capable of making any lascivious comments. He was like everyone’s overly friendly, slightly addle-brained favorite uncle. Unlike his operating methods, the humor he subscribed to resided decades in the past where innocent comments were just that and carried no veiled meanings or hidden agendas. The hospital’s mandatory P.C. training had taught the older man to be cautious, but that usually kicked in only after he had said something that was jarringly out of sync with the times.
Alix had her mind on something more important than imagined incorrect statements. Survival. “I’ve got a full load, Dr. Beauchamp.”
“And you handle it beautifully,” he readily testified.
Alix tried again. “I’m on E.R. rotation this morning.”
If she’d hoped to deter the chief of staff, it back-fired badly.
Beauchamp clapped his hands together. “Perfect.” He turned to Terrance. “This’ll be your trial by fire, so to speak. Can’t ask for anything better than that. You’ll be hurdled into the thick of our operation here. Blair prides itself on its outstanding emergency room facilities.
“Of course,” the chief of staff philosophized, “Murphy’s law being what it is, the E.R.’ll probably be deadly dull and quiet this morning.”
Hardly that, Terrance thought, doing his best not to look at Alix as if he’d known her beyond these past five minutes. Trying not to look at her as if he knew every inch of her smooth, supple body and as if the memory of that body hadn’t haunted his days and nights in vivid detail.
Pushing the past into the small, steely box where it belonged and mentally slamming the lid shut, Terrance looked down at Alix and smiled. He did his best not to take note of the dark look in her eyes.
Did I do that to you, Alix? Did I take the light away? If I did, I’m sorry that I hurt you. Sorrier than you’ll ever know.
“It looks like you’re going to be stuck with me for a while, Dr. DuCane,” he said lightly. “I’ll try my best not to get in your way.”
Too late, Alix thought.
Resigned to her fate, she nodded at Beauchamp without really looking at the man. “All right, but I still think Dr. McCall would be better off with someone else. I’ve never been a very good teacher.”
“We teach by example, Dr. DuCane, and quite truthfully, you set the best example of anyone I can think of,” Beauchamp assured her.
“I guess I’d better say yes before you flatter me to death,” Alix replied.
There was affection in her voice. Clarence Beauchamp had several failings, but the ability to make a person feel good was not one of them. Though they were very different in their approaches, and her father was by far the more superior orator, Beauchamp did in some ways remind her of Daniel DuCane.
She barely spared Terrance a glance, not trusting herself.
“Follow me,” she instructed as she turned sharply on her heel. Shoulders squared, Alix quickly walked out of the room.
