Medical Romance July 2016 Books 1-6. Lynne Marshall

equipment.”

      It was true. Not just that. His medical center was also equipped with suites to house patients who were having surgery so that their privacy could be guaranteed. A nod to battles he, his sister, and his parents had fought with the paparazzi. The center could also accommodate those patients who needed physical therapy after a procedure. And they always kept a few of the small apartments open for emergencies.

      “That would be great. Thank you, James.”

      Tyler’s head abruptly cranked around to look at him, narrowed eyes meeting his.

      Was it his imagination or was there a veiled threat in the firefighter’s gaze? He met the look and matched it with one of his own. Neither looked away, until Mila cleared her throat and glanced from one to the other.

      James took a step back. “I’ll call Adam Walker and see if he has any openings in his schedule. He’s one of the best orthopedic surgeons around.”

      Mila’s eyes closed for a second. When they opened, they were a warm shade of hazel that he hadn’t seen in forever. “Thank you. I owe you.”

      “Nope. You don’t.”

      If there was a debt owed by anyone, it was him. And it was more than he could ever begin to repay. For helping him discover something that had set his life path in stone. Or maybe he had Freya, his dad and Cindy to thank for that. Cindy’s lie had saved two incompatible people a lot of grief and heartache. Mila might not have appreciated that back when he’d broken things off, but she probably did now.

      It took almost an hour to sort through the red tape of having Leonardo—the name the boy had given them—declared a temporary ward of the state so that they could transport him to The Hollywood Hills Clinic. Mila had gone outside to say goodbye to Tyler and then had headed up to her apartment to pack a small overnight bag, insisting that she was going to stay with Leo at the medical center.

      What if he got scared? Or had a nightmare? He shouldn’t be alone.

      “Are you sure you want to stay?”

      The department of children’s services wouldn’t be there until morning. Maybe it was just as well, because James was suddenly bone tired in a way he hadn’t been for a long time. Whether it was physical exhaustion or exhaustion that came from the emotional upheaval of the break-in and seeing Mila’s ex, he had no idea.

      “I’m sure,” she said, walking with the EMT workers to the ambulance and then climbing in beside the boy. “Would you mind running by the store and picking up a few things for him, like clothes and a toothbrush?”

      “Excuse me?”

      “Oh, sorry.” She peered out of the vehicle before opening her purse.

      He stopped her with an upraised hand, realizing she’d misunderstood him. And he was glad that she’d chosen him to run her errands, rather than Tyler. If he refused, he had no doubt she would call the other man and ask him to get the items. Not going to happen. “I don’t need your money. I just have no idea what size he wears.”

      Up went Mila’s brows. “Um. He’s around three years old. So a size three should do it. Get some underwear and socks too, okay?”

      Kids’ clothes sizes ran by age? Who knew?

      “I’ll meet you back at the clinic in an hour or so.”

      “Thanks. I’ll see you soon.”

      The doors to the ambulance slammed shut and the vehicle sped away from the building, lights flashing, leaving him standing there alone.

      Just as well.

      He needed time to untangle exactly what had happened here tonight. And why the fishing hook he’d been toying with a few hours ago at the restaurant had just been suddenly and expertly set by some distant fisherman, leaving him little or no chance of escape. Not without inflicting some major damage to some of his internal organs. Although, if things got too bad, he might have to just rip free of the line and hope for the best.

      * * *

      Adam Walker met her at the door.

      Mila tried to calm her still shaking legs. She’d been shocked that Tyler had rushed over to Bright Hope to try to help. Especially with James there. She’d felt guilty enough for breaking things off with him. She certainly hadn’t expected him to show up right after she’d been wined and dined by her other ex.

      Lord.

      It was over. With both of them. She had nothing to feel guilty about.

      And yet she did. That line of guilt ran from her to each man, and she wasn’t sure which side made her feel worse.

      Neither. And her mind should be on Leo right now, who needed her help.

      “Let’s get him to an exam room.” Adam stretched his palm toward the boy, who, seated in a wheelchair, hesitated for a split second and then placed his small hand in the other man’s. With kind eyes and tightly curled brown hair, the orthopedic surgeon had worked with children before. It was there in the easy grip of his fingers, in the way his right shoulder stooped low so Leo’s arm wouldn’t be stretched too high by the difference in their heights as Mila pushed the wheelchair.

      Mila smiled, despite herself. Whereas James had seemed vastly uncomfortable in the boy’s presence, Adam was a natural. Judging from the gleaming gold band on the man’s left hand, he might even have children of his own at home.

      They got Leo up on the exam table, and while a nurse worked on getting the boy’s vitals, Adam rolled the bottoms of the child’s threadbare jeans up a few inches to get a better look at his feet and ankles.

      His jaw tightened as he examined the twisted appendages and slid his gloved hand along the outside edges of Leo’s feet. “They’re both fixed in the varus position.”

      Mila knew that there were two main forms of club foot, equinus—when the toes were pointed toward the ground—and varus, when the bone malformation caused the outer portion of the foot to swivel downward, forcing the toes toward the center. “I haven’t seen him walk yet. I’m not sure if he can.”

      “You may not have seen it, but he does.” Adam gestured her closer. “See this callusing over the tarsal and metatarsal? He walks on the edges of his feet.”

      “Wow. It should have been corrected when he was a baby.”

      Adam shrugged. “I’ve seen more of these cases in developing countries than here in the States, where corrective surgery is the norm. Maybe his folks couldn’t afford it. Or maybe they immigrated here from somewhere else.”

      “He only speaks Spanish, from what I’ve seen. And he said his uncle left him at my clinic. The authorities are still trying to locate him.”

      The surgeon rubbed a hand behind his neck. “I can fix his feet. But we’ll need permission from someone before I can do anything.”

      “I’m scheduled to speak with a social worker tomorrow. Surely they’ll make a way, even if we can’t find the uncle. He can’t stay like this.”

      “I’ve done a few pro bono cases that have come through the courts when the system’s doctors were inundated and couldn’t get to them.” He gave the boy’s shoulder a squeeze. “I’ll be happy to help in any way I can. Just get me the release forms.”

      “I’ll get to work on it.”

      James pushed through the door, his arms loaded with packages. Not from the local store but from one of the upper-end clothing chains in the area. The orthopedist’s brows went up, bland amusement sliding through his eyes. “Doing a little late-night shopping, James?”

      “Sure. That’s what I normally do with my free time.”

      His voice was a little sharper than she’d expected it to be, and she blinked up at him. Maybe he really had minded going to the store. She could have asked Tyler to go, but since they were no longer