Return of the Rebel Surgeon. Connie Cox

then redirected the conversation. “Where’s Adrian?”

      She had the petulant instinct to answer, None of your business. But she was more mature than that. Besides, wasn’t it better to figure out his intentions instead of antagonizing him, so she could be prepared?

      “At a boy-girl mixer.”

      Getting back on track, she asked, “How long will you be in town?”

      “I’m not sure yet.” He said it defensively, tensing his shoulders with a grimace.

      His evasiveness set off warning signals. In her profession she had learned to trust her instincts and to read the unspoken message behind tone of voice and body language.

      “You have changed, Cole. You were never unsure before. You were always so cocky and full of bravado.”

      “Bluffing my way through was the only way I could get where I needed to go. A poor boy on scholarship to one of the wealthiest college prep schools in the United States has to convince everyone—incuding himself—that he’s good enough to be there.” He stood incrementally taller. “I don’t have to prove myself to anyone anymore.”

      Sadness swamped her. Sadness for what could have been. But Cole had chosen ambition over her and their child—when he could have had it all if he had stayed. “You never had to prove yourself to me.”

      “That’s not how I saw it. You needed approval from your family and friends. Therefore, I needed their approval to be with you. You never even told your father we were dating, too afraid he’d forbid it if he found out.”

      “He would have, too, if David’s mother had advised him to. And you know Mrs. Beautemps. She would have made sure we couldn’t see each other.”

      Isabella loved her father with all her heart, but he had been totally overwhelmed at raising a teenage daughter after her mother had died, and had turned over all decisions, major or minor, to her mother’s best friend, Marjorie Beautemps. Trying to honor her friend, David’s mother had taken Isabella to her bosom, almost smothering her, until the divorce.

      Even though Mrs. Beautemps’ hostile rejection hurt, Isabella could now draw a full breath without being reminded of society’s proprieties.

      Where would she and Cole be now if she had been a rebellious wild child instead of a submissive and insecure teenager? Of course, getting pregnant with Adrian could have gone a long way toward eroding her good-girl image if David hadn’t married her, letting the world assume Adrian was his child.

      But Cole wasn’t part of that world. She’d done everything in her power to let him know the truth and he had chosen to ignore it. She searched his eyes for a sign, a flicker of guilt or remorse. All she saw was cold, hard pride.

      Cole gave Isabella a tight smile. “What we were, what we might have been—that’s all in the past, isn’t it? Anything between us is best forgiven and forgotten.”

      Isabella thought of her beautiful son as Cole shrugged off their past together. How could Cole dismiss Adrian so easily? He had seemed genuinely interested in their son earlier. Something wasn’t adding up.

      What about the letter written in his scrawled handwriting that was locked away in her jewelry chest? For the first time since she’d ripped open that envelope, a niggling of doubt wormed its way into her thoughts. There was no way he couldn’t know—was there?

      “Cole, maybe we need to talk.” Her phone vibrated a warning alarm, reminding her it was time to pick up Adrian. “But not now.”

      He gave her a hard frown that finally softened around the edges. “Anytime, Bella. For old times’ sake.”

      It was the last day of the games. It seemed they’d gone on for four years instead of four days. Isabella was exhausted. She wanted to rub her eyes with the back of her hand, but smeared mascara wouldn’t make the fashion statement she was going for.

      To say her nerves were frayed was like saying the Titanic had hit an ice cube. This morning she felt like she was going under just as fast and fatefully as that famous ship.

      All because of Cole Lassiter.

      She’d been waking up in the middle of the night, going over and over in her mind those weeks she had spent trying to get a response from Cole.

      Cole had to know about Adrian, right? After all she had done to inform him, how could he not know? How could he act so unparent-like toward Adrian? But, then, it took more than sperm to be a father, didn’t it?

      At her side, Adrian’s hand rhythmically beat the air. Such big movements only happened when his world was off-kilter.

      Her son was picking up on her mood. Out of the blue, he’d decided he didn’t want to brush his teeth this morning. Heaven help her, she’d resorted to her old method of persuasion and told him that his father always brushed his teeth so he wouldn’t have stinky breath and people would like him. That had promptly taken care of the problem.

      It had also set her to wondering what woman got to take advantage of Cole’s minty-fresh breath nowadays—even while she castigated herself for caring.

      She took a look around the field where the coaches organized their teams while waiting for the start of today’s activities. Since Adrian didn’t play soccer, he would have to stay by her side while she took care of her volunteer duties.

      For the past few days Isabella had invoked all her willpower to give Adrian the privilege of wandering the grounds within her eyesight instead of making him stick with her. She was trying her best to let him have more independence, but was having a hard time letting go.

      But today had nothing to do with independence but with mother’s intuition. She could tell by the rebellious glint in his eye that she couldn’t trust him to stay out of trouble by himself.

      “Hi,” drawled a deep Southern male voice behind them.

      Isabella’s heart skipped a beat until her head caught up with her and she realized it wasn’t Cole.

      The man was the father of one of Adrian’s friends.

      Why was she jumping every time she heard a man speak? She’d been doing that every day since her first encounter with Cole, and not once had he approached her.

      Just because today was the last day of the games, did she think he would seek her out to say goodbye? Not likely.

      “Could Adrian hang out with us today? My wife is helping on the field and we could use the company.”

      “Sure.” She watched as the two boys raced each other up into the stands safely under proper supervision. The resourceful father produced two pair of cheap binoculars from his bag.

      Adrian held a pair of binoculars up to his eyes and scanned the field, looking for his own father, his hero come to life.

      Because she couldn’t stop herself, Bella took a look toward the medical tent with little expectation of finding Cole there.

      Everyone took pride in the special games being conducted as safely as possible and this week’s regional competitions were no exception. Which left a doctor with too much time on his hands. Apparently, sitting in a stifling medical tent while awaiting a medical incident wasn’t Cole’s style.

      For the last several days he’d been everywhere, helping out at the registration table, chaperoning the non-competitive activities and handing out medals, which pleased her athletic son beyond imagining as Cole presented him with a slew of blue, red and green ribbons for his various competitions.

      Everywhere Cole could be found, there was Adrian. And all that time Cole had said nothing, done nothing, to acknowledge Adrian as his son.

      He’d seemed to be avoiding her, too. Not that she had sought him out. She didn’t have to. That same awareness of each other they’d shared all those years ago gave her a sixth sense in knowing where he was the whole time he was on the stadium grounds.

      What