The Er's Newest Dad. Janice Lynn

Oh, how pregnancy and becoming a mother had changed her. Her body. Her mindset. Everything. Justice had changed her for the good. Unlike his father. “I’m a completely different person, have different priorities, different dreams.”

      He moved round the desk, stood close, quietly regarding her, seeming to consider her comment. “What do you dream now, Brielle?” His question came out soft, curious, almost a plea to know her inner desires.

      As if she’d tell him anything about her dreams.

      “Not so long ago all your dreams featured me,” he reminded her softly, no trace of his cocky arrogance to be heard in his voice for once.

      There went that jerk to her throat again, but this time she held onto her ability to speak.

      “Long enough.” For ever ago. “Like I said, I’ve changed. For however long you are here, I will treat you with professional courtesy, but I will not cater to you beyond that limited role. Anything else between us ended long ago.” Five long, horrible years ago when he’d changed the course of her life by ending their relationship and moving far away. “At your bidding, I might add.”

      Had that been bitterness in her tone? She wanted indifference, not the slightest hint that he’d hurt her, that he still held the power to hurt her.

      “Brielle—”

      “Unless what you have to say is regarding a patient, please don’t speak to me,” she interrupted, unwilling to listen to more. “Just leave me alone.”

      His brows drawn together, he sighed. “If that’s how you want things.”

      “It is.” With that she turned back to her computer monitor and pretended he wasn’t standing so close, pretended that he didn’t mean a thing to her.

      Not pretended. He didn’t mean a thing to her. Not really.

      Not for a long time.

      Not ever again.

      CHAPTER TWO

      GLAD HER SHIFT was almost over, a tired Brielle handed an elderly gentleman an emesis pan. “Use this if you need to throw up. Dr. Lane will be in momentarily to order something to ease the nausea.” A noise caught her attention as someone entered the room. She didn’t have to look to know who it was. The quickening of her pulse gave all the indication she needed. “Here he is now.”

      “Hello, Mr. Gardner, I’m Dr. Lane,” Ross introduced himself as he washed his hands. “I’ve looked over your labs. The good news is that your chest pain doesn’t appear to be cardiac in nature.”

      “The bad news?” the slightly balding, white-haired man asked, his expression pinched. His frail hands clasped the white cotton blanket covering his thin body tightly.

      Brielle fought the urge to take his trembling hand in hers while he awaited whatever news Ross had come to deliver.

      “Your liver enzymes are through the roof, as are your amylase and lipase levels,” Ross explained, elaborating on the details of the patient’s labs and how they related to his symptoms. “I’m going to admit you to the medical floor for acute pancreatitis.”

      Ross spoke calmly to the man, taking time to explain the diagnosis and the medical implications. Despite the fact that she should probably go and check to see if there were any new patients to triage, Brielle found herself fascinated by Ross interacting with his patient.

      She’d always known he was going to be a phenomenal doctor. He’d had such a reassuring manner about him, an aura that promised his patients everything would be okay so long as their lives were in his hands, that he’d always do his best.

      When it came to his patients, perhaps that was true. In the short time he’d been at Bean’s Creek, he’d certainly earned the respect of his colleagues. No one could say enough good things about the gorgeous new doctor filling in for Cassidy Jenkins.

      “Brielle, will you call the medical floor and have a nurse prepare a bed for Mr. Gardner? I’ll get admission orders written.” He looked up from where he listened to Mr. Gardner’s chest yet again. “Oh, and one more thing, go ahead and give an anti-emetic prior to his transfer, please.”

      He named the medication, dosage, and route he wanted it administered.

      Please. No wonder all her co-workers thought he was God’s gift to the emergency department. Forget the man’s extraordinary good looks, which made a girl willing to overlook most flaws, but, seriously, how many doctors said please and thank you routinely? As well loved as Cassidy was, even the lovely doctor on maternity leave wasn’t known for pleases and thank yous.

      Brielle didn’t want to like him, this older version of the man she’d once loved with all her heart. Didn’t want to have positive thoughts in any way, shape, or form regarding Ross.

      She didn’t want to have thoughts of Ross, period.

      Not good. Not bad. Not any.

      Forcing him from her mind yet again, she nodded at the source of her annoyance and left the emergency room bay to carry out his orders. She’d just finished drawing up the injection when he stepped up behind her. Close. Too close.

      She turned to tell him to back away, to leave her alone, but facing Ross was a mistake.

      He was standing closer than she’d realized. So close that they practically touched. So close that when she looked up at him, she could see the flare of desire darkening the blue of his eyes.

      She remembered that flare, that look that said he wanted her. Before he’d baled out on her, that look would have had her smiling, nodding, and them getting alone as quickly as possible.

      A lump clogged her throat. She choked back a fresh wave of annoyance at how she remembered everything about him, how her body remembered every look and caress he’d ever bestowed on her. Stupid body!

      He looked good, smelled good. It was all she could do to keep from deeply inhaling the musky scent of him. If she leaned just slightly towards him, she bet he’d feel good too. His lean body was as toned and fit as ever. Perhaps more so than when he’d been finishing his degree.

      But Brielle didn’t lean. Instead, she focused on the image of the last time she’d seen him when she’d gone to Boston a few months after he’d left.

      An image of that wonderfully built body of his pressed against a woman Brielle hadn’t known, but obviously Ross had, filled her mind. His lips had been firmly attached to the blonde stranger’s. When he’d pulled back, he’d smiled at the woman, slid his arm to her lower back and whispered something in the woman’s ear that had made her laugh and slap his upper arm.

      Brielle hadn’t laughed, but she had felt like slapping Ross. And herself for being so stupid as to think going to Boston to tell him about her pregnancy had been the right thing for her to do.

      He’d told her he wanted nothing to do with her or anything that had to do with her ever again. Why hadn’t she believed him?

      She’d left somewhere between numb, angry, and so hurt that the airline stewardess had asked more than once if she was okay. Less than a month later she’d given birth to Justice, her obstetrician citing stress as the cause of her premature labor.

      The memory of her Boston trip still held the power to almost bring her to her knees with pain, nausea, and weakness. It also gave her the power to resist the man standing before her, who was as sinfully tempting as the devil himself. Yes, she’d loved him once upon a time, but the flip side of the coin held her in its grasp much more firmly these days.

      “Brielle,” he began, his voice low, his eyes searching as if he knew her thoughts had gone somewhere dark. He reached for her shoulders.

      “Don’t!” She jerked back, clenching the medication-filled syringe between shaking fingers. “Don’t you dare touch me, Ross Lane. Don’t you ever touch me!”

      She’d been louder