Uncovering Her Secrets by Amalie Berlin

Author:Amalie Berlin [Berlin, Amalie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2013-12-08T16:00:00+00:00

Running late. Unavoidable emergency. Sorry. One hour.

Emergency. He started to text back, seeking details, and stopped himself. This wasn’t a call for help, and him rushing to the rescue would really look pretty lame. Dasha was an adult, she could handle whatever was going on. She’d broken her foot in their first year of residency, and had refused all pain medicine because she’d have had to miss work if she’d taken it. They still hadn’t let her operate, but that hadn’t kept her from standing in the OR until she’d been kicked out, just so she wouldn’t miss out.

She was tough. If she’d wanted his help, she’d have asked. Hounding her as if she couldn’t take care of herself was a bigger insult than some social mistake if he was supposed to ask about the emergency.

A walk would be a better use of his time.

Somehow, he found himself outside Frist’s room. The man sat in his bed, swaddled in bandages and casts, and hooked to monitoring equipment. No Dasha—so that wasn’t the emergency.

He knocked, and dragged Frist’s gaze away from the window he’d been staring out of.

“Don’t suppose you’d like a double espresso, heavy on the cream...?” Preston lifted a cup in offering.

“And sugar.” Frist filled in Dasha’s usual coffee order, looking toward the door. “I would. Tell Dasha I begged for it if you have to.” He held out his good hand. “The brew here stinks bad.”

He didn’t seem himself. Or maybe he did. Preston didn’t know the man enough to make judgments, but something did seem to be wrong. Uncomfortable. “She’s running late. No coffee for tardy doctors.”

“Is she okay?”

At first, Frist’s concern for Dasha had made Preston a little uncomfortable, but it was the same with everyone here. They genuinely adored her at St. Vincent’s. She hadn’t been kidding about the friendliness they fostered among staff. “She seemed okay. Said she would be an hour late.” He nodded toward the injured hand, changing the subject. He needed distraction from worrying about her, not to make someone else worry. “How’s the recovery coming?”

“Two generations of Monroe concern in one day.” His voice went flat. “It’s fine.”

Preston didn’t even have to ask what that meant. Davis P. Monroe had been here already this morning, or called at least. He recognized the signs. “He driving you nuts, too?”

Frist half smiled. “He asks for updates so often, and there are none to give yet. Which—”

“He should know,” Preston filled in, nodding. Exactly the reason he avoided telling his father about his own issue. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I don’t really give a damn how your hand is.” He grinned.

Frist smirked.

“I’m sure it’ll heal as well as any apple-picker needs,” Preston added.

Frist laughed then.

“Seriously, try to ignore Davis P. He obviously thinks highly of you.” A pause and he added, “You’re like the son he never had.”

“He has a son.” Now Frist looked at him oddly.

“Yes, and you’re the son he never had.” Preston shrugged past that to joke again.

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