Revealing the Real Dr. Robinson (12 page)

Shutting his eyes, he was torn between the pure, physical want for her touch and the sure knowledge of what would come later. No one had ever come this close, no one had ever touched him this way. Not physically, not emotionally. From Shanna, he wanted it more than he’d ever wanted anything in his entire life. Being touched by her—that was all there was. Just this moment. Only her touch. It had to stop, though. He had to stop it. Yet the struggle was so fierce... “What I’ve done to myself is what I had to do. And I don’t fool myself about anything.” So true. But it was a truth not meant for her.

“But you’re more than your scars, Ben.”

Her fingers fluttered up and down his chest, her touch so light he could barely feel it. But the shivers he was holding back and the pure emotional arousal told him she was there. Dangerously there. “And you’re more than your family,” he managed to say, fighting not to let himself sound as ragged as he felt. “Shanna, don’t. We can’t...”

Swallowing hard, he tried to step back, wanted to step back, but as he looked down and saw her eyes looking directly into his, there was nothing in him that could make him move. She was so beautiful, and so innocent. The ugliness of the world had never touched her and, with all his heart, he hoped it never would. “You don’t know what’s involved here. Don’t know me...”

“Touch me, Ben,” she said, taking hold of his hand and guiding it to her chest, over her heart. “That’s what I know. I want you to touch me.” He was such a beautiful man, in every way she wanted. She could see that beauty, and feel it every time she looked at him, yet how would she show him what was so obvious to her? “And I want to touch you.”

Reaching up to his face, she followed the line of his scars, starting behind his left ear and twining down, under his chin, across his shoulder, his chest, over part of his stomach. Then, stopped by his cargo pants, she let that impede her only a moment, before she unzipped him, lowered his cargos and his briefs, and continued tracing her fingers across his lower abdomen, over his hip and came to a stop where his scar did, halfway down his thigh.

She felt him shudder, felt his muscles tense, knew if she looked up she’d see how rigidly his face was set, see how tightly closed his eyes were. None of that mattered, though, as she touched her lips to the start of the scar on his thigh and followed the journey upward her fingers had just traveled downward. But when she got to midchest, that was where she ended, where she snaked both her hands around his neck. Where he surrendered and his muscles relaxed. Where she lost her soul and found her heart.

* * *

It was still dark outside, but she was awake. Had barely slept, thinking about how this had started with her exploring the idea of leaving, and how beautifully it had ended, lying here with Ben. No matter how beautiful, though, she was filled with trepidation, this queasiness in the pit of her stomach that wouldn’t go away.

Too many of her thoughts were wrapped in so much confusion because, come first light, everything would be the same as it had been before they’d spent the night together. They’d escaped into each other for a while, which had only deepened her feelings for this man. Nothing had changed, though. Not in any real sense.

And she wasn’t going to delude herself into thinking that one perfect night would transform anything. Her family didn’t want her the way she was, and Ben didn’t want her. Those were two hard facts she still had to face.

Ben...beautiful man. Everything she’d ever wanted. Kind, considerate and so compassionate. Yet he was still so guarded. Not able to let himself go. Or only going through the correct motions. She’d felt it in the way he’d held her, kissed her, made love to her. He’d allowed her only a small part of him, but she wasn’t even sure which part that was. She wondered if it was simply the physical need he’d relinquished to her when all she’d wanted had been a piece of his heart. Consequently, in the afterglow, the emptiness had started to creep in.

So for now she’d accept it as it was and, come daylight, maybe she’d see it all differently. Or maybe she’d pretend a little while longer that when Ben opened his eyes he’d see the possibilities, not the impossibilities.

Falling in love shouldn’t be this difficult, she thought as she turned on her side to snuggle into Ben, who was likewise on his side but with his back to her. Scooting over, she matched the lines of her body to his and placed her hand over his waist, just to feel connected. Maybe that was what she’d missed—the real connection between them. Or maybe she was simply reading her insecurities into a place they didn’t need to be. Whatever it was, duty would be calling in another couple of hours, and she needed to be better rested. So she exhaled, relaxed, enjoyed the feel of him pressed to her, and...

She felt his muscles go tense. Then jerk convulsively. One hard, fast snap. Then his breathing turned shallow for a moment, almost like he was panting, and she was instantly alert. Did he feel warm? Too warm? Another hard jerk followed immediately by a third one...

“Ben,” she whispered, giving him a gentle nudge on the shoulder.

His response was a groggy mumble. Understandable. He was sleeping, didn’t want to be disturbed. But she propped herself up on her elbow and instinctively reached over him to feel his forehead. An old-fashioned diagnostic tool, but it worked. And he wasn’t just warm, he was burning up. “Ben,” she said, this time giving him a hard shake.

Again, he responded with a mumble, so Shanna rolled over, flipped on the light on the bedside stand, then rolled back to Ben and pulled him over onto his back. “Ben,” she said, this time urgently. “Can you hear me?”

His eyes fluttered open. “I’m fine,” he said, his voice unusually gravelly.

“Look at me,” she said as his eyes sagged closed again. “Focus on me, Ben. Open your eyes and focus on me.” Moving up to her knees so she could get a better angle to examine him, it occurred to her that he was completely naked and except for Ben’s T-shirt, which she was wearing, she was nearly the same. “Come on, open your eyes,” she said, patting both sides of his face to arouse him.

“I already focused on you,” he said, opening his eyes and attempting a smile.

“You have a fever. You’ve been telling me you were tired, that you weren’t sick. But now you have a fever, and it’s high, Ben. I don’t know how high, but it’s high.”

“You make me hot.” He shook himself, shook his head, sucked in a deep breath. “But I’m not sick. All I need is some sleep.”

While his words weren’t nearly as garbled now, he was still too thick, too lethargic. “How long have you been feeling bad?” she asked. Taking his pulse—too fast. Feeling the glands in his neck—slightly swollen.

Instead of answering, he went back to sleep.

“Ben, please. Stay with me.”

“I can’t,” he mumbled. “What I did... Horrible things. Let people down...”

She needed to examine him.
Really
examine him. But she was torn between dressing and running across the hall for her medical bag or simply calling Dr. Hueber, the on-call for emergencies tonight, and letting him make the assumptions he wanted.

Except assumptions might not be good for Ben’s reputation, and she didn’t want to jeopardize his hospital or his standing in the village, so she threw on her clothes faster than she knew she could dress, dashed to her room across the hall, then hurried back and practically tumbled back into the bed next to him to take his blood pressure. Low. Respirations normal, but on the shallow side. Pupils reactive, but a little sluggish. No huge concerns so far. Then his heart, and that was where the concern started. His pulse was thready, cutting in and out.

An infection? She’d seen him tired, seen him avoid meals, claiming he was too busy to eat. Those might simply be Ben, but they might also be symptoms of whatever this was. “Ben,” she said, giving him a gentle nudge. “Wake up. Hear me? Wake up. I want to ask you some questions.”

“Need a shower,” he mumbled. “Make morning rounds...”

“No morning rounds,” she said, scrambling from the bed and rummaging through his drawer for a pair of briefs. Once found, she put them on him, along with socks. She had no reason why those were important to her, but they were. She wanted him to look...professional when she admitted him to the hospital. So after the socks, on went a scrub shirt and pants, and that was where she stopped and called Hueber, and told him what was going on. His response was to send two volunteers and a stretcher and, within minutes, Ben was stretched out atop an exam table, where Dr. Hueber was hooking him up to a heart monitor while Shanna was busy starting an IV.

“When did this start?” Hueber asked.

“He was fine last night. We talked for a while after our shifts were over. Then this morning, when I went to make sure he was on morning rounds, he was like this.”

“Noticed anything before this? I’ve only been here a few days, so I haven’t really had the chance to talk to him yet. But if you’ve been around awhile, maybe you’ve noticed something.”

“Maybe. He’s been tired off and on, and doesn’t have much of an appetite.”

“Been fine,” Ben interjected. “Working too many hours.”

“Working too many hours doesn’t get you in this shape,” Shanna said, glancing nervously at the heart monitor. “So tell me when you started feeling bad.”

“A few minutes ago.”

She glanced across at Hueber, who was getting ready to put an oxygen mask on Ben. “Now, be truthful with me, Ben. How long have you been feeling bad?”

This time he didn’t answer. He simply sighed heavily and drifted off.

“I’m assuming he’s current on all his vaccinations,” Hueber said.

Shaking her head, Shanna shrugged. Honestly, she didn’t know. Doctors were usually the worst patients so she wouldn’t put it past Ben to let his vaccinations lapse. She hoped he hadn’t, though, because that would be a starting point, where they could begin to rule out various conditions. She ran a hand over Ben’s sweaty brow. “What have you done, Ben Robinson?” she asked, not concerned that Hueber was arching knowing eyebrows at her. “What did you go and contract?” And could they treat it here, or should they be looking for a lifeline out?

Hueber cleared his throat. “I don’t suppose you’ve inspected him, have you?” he asked, then added, “In the professional sense.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, the implication of Hueber’s question not lost on her.

“For bites, cuts, rashes, those sorts of things. It’s what we do here in the jungle because there are so many unknown variables we’re not used to dealing with. You know, look between fingers and toes and all those other places you might not normally examine.”

“No, I haven’t inspected him. I only found him right before I called you.” Technically, that was correct. Besides, it was none of Hueber’s business that she’d spent the most amazing night of her life with Ben prior to that. At least, she hoped medical necessity wouldn’t turn it into Hueber’s business.

“Then while I go wake another doctor up to come work in Emergency, I’d suggest you inspect him. And keep your fingers crossed we find something easy to identify. Because Ben doesn’t have the medical resources at Caridad yet to take care of him if we don’t see something we can diagnose pretty damned fast, and have the means to treat.” He sighed. “And don’t fight me on this, but I’m going to line up medical transport for him in case we can’t treat him here. Or he gets worse.”

There wasn’t an argument in her. What Ben was experiencing always came with the uncertainty of not knowing what came next. Truthfully, it excited her. Showed her a raw, new medical horizon she hadn’t even known existed. In her heart of hearts she wanted to stay, wanted to be a part of everything Ben did here. Wanted to be a part of Ben. But staying came with the knowledge that she might never get from him what she needed, and how did someone who openly wore her heart on her sleeve survive that?

“What did this to you?” she asked as she examined his arms, first his left, then his right, noting the perfect flesh juxtaposed against the scars. “To have gone through what you did and get yourself to where you are...” Suddenly, the doctor in Shanna gave way to the woman, and she felt warm tears sliding down her cheeks. It didn’t matter if Hueber saw, didn’t matter what he knew. She was in love with this guy, didn’t care if her heart
was
on her sleeve or if she was just plain sissified, like her grandfather had said.

Right now she needed to cry. For herself. For Ben. “When you’re better, we’ve got some things to talk about, Ben Robinson,” she managed through her sniffles.

He stirred. Opened his eyes and simply stared at her for a moment. Then he reached up and brushed a tear from her cheek. And went back to sleep before he could lower his hand to the bed.

She caught it as it dropped, and held on for a moment. “I’m going to get you through this,” she promised, then kissed his hand and lowered it to his side. “Don’t know what it is, but I’m a good doctor.” Bending down to his ear, she whispered, “And you’re a good lover. It’s a combination we can work with, Ben. But you’ve got to get better first. Hear me? You’ve got to get better.”

Rather than responding, Ben remained still, so for the next several minutes she searched him for anything that might indicate what was happening. But came up empty.

“His sister’s here,” Hueber said, poking his head through the curtain. “And her husband. They want to take over his case. Just thought you should know.”

Shanna nodded, and as soon as Hueber was gone, she kissed Ben gently on the cheek. “I’ll be back,” she whispered. “I promise.”

“What is it?” Amanda asked, the instant Shanna stepped into the hall.

“Don’t know, so right now we’re treating symptoms and watching him.”

“That’s not good enough!” Amanda snapped. Her husband, Jack, stepped up beside his wife and slipped a steadying arm around her waist.

“I’m Jack Kenner,” he said, pulling his wife tight to his side.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Shanna Brooks.”

“So, do you suspect anything?” Jack asked. “How was he acting before he got sick? Was he displaying any symptoms?”

“Tired, lack of appetite. Then this morning he spiked a fever, starting having a heart arrhythmia, compromised respiration. Became lethargic, not comatose but at times on the verge of going completely under. So far, though, he always rallies out of it. But each time it’s dragging him deeper down.”