The Boss and Nurse Albright (7 page)

Claire appeared in his doorway. “Jason? Mrs. Ching may have Chinese herb nephropathy.”

“What?”

She rushed into his office and leaned over his desk. “Her labs show evidence of renal ischemia. She may be toxic. I spoke to her daughter, who said she was taking these herbs for joint aches and pain relief for the
last month. One of the ingredients may contain aristolochic acid.”

“And I should know this?”

“No,” she said, cheeks pink and eyes shining. “I should because I’ve studied it, but it isn’t commonly known. There could have been an inadvertent mix-up in one of the ingredients with this herbal mixture. What should be
A. Fangji
, a harmless herb, could actually be
A. Fangchi
a herb that contains aristolochic acid, which can cause renal failure. Something like this happened a few years back. I remember reading the article.”

“What do we do now?”

“I called Mrs. Ching’s daughter and told her to stop the herbs immediately—that they could be life-threatening—and I’ve left a message for her herbalist to call me.”

Claire took her job seriously, and had managed to identify a potentially fatal herb interaction for one of his patients.

“Good idea.” He smiled at the vibrant woman in front of him.

She blushed and he definitely liked it whenever she did. “So, assuming the worst and you’re right and Mrs. Ching can potentially go into renal failure, what do we do next? Are renoprotective agents enough to turn her around?”

“I think we should admit her,” she said.

“Treat her like any other nephropathy patient?”

She nodded. “Hopefully, the damage is reversible. In extreme cases, the kidneys and ureters are so damaged, they have to be surgically removed. There’s no telling what’s going on with her at this point.”

He got on the phone and started barking out instruc
tions. “I’m heading over to the Hospital to prepare for Mrs. Ching’s admit. You call her and tell her daughter to bring her and meet me there. If she gives you any trouble, I’ll personally go to her house and drag her there myself,” he said.

“I’d like to come, too,” she said.

“Sure.”

“Oh, but wait. Gina.” Claire tapped her finger on her mouth. “I know! I’ll call my landlady and ask if she can watch her. She loves Gina.”

Claire grabbed her cellphone and made the calls while following Jason out to the car.

“Mrs. Ching’s on her way and Gina gets to have delivery pizza for dinner tonight with Mrs. Densmore. Lucky girl.”

They spent the next two hours at the local E.R. having Mrs. Ching admitted, while Jason wrote out a plethora of kidney specific tests to be performed. When he was satisfied he’d covered everything from basic kidney function labs to ultrasound, MRI, IVP, cytoscopy and renal biopsy, he glanced up to find Claire looking over his shoulder. She’d been sick in bed all last week, and here she was one week later, like a trouper sticking by his side while he took care of one of his patients. If it hadn’t been for her astute find, Mrs. Ching could have been on the fast track to dialysis or, worse yet, a nephrectomy.

Claire looked a little drawn and her stomach made a gurgling plea about the missed dinner hour.

“Excuse me,” she said as she grabbed her waist, color rising on her cheeks.

“Let’s get some dinner,” he said.

She opened her mouth, but he didn’t give her the chance to protest.

“I owe you,” he said. “It’s the least I can do.”

“Well, since you put it that way…let me call my landlady and ask if it’s OK with her.”

Claire snapped her cellphone closed with a smile on her face. “Now they’re watching a Disney video, and Gina’s already in her pajamas. She’ll be happy to tuck her in bed for me.”

“That’s great.”

A half hour later they were being seated at Aldo’s, his favorite Italian restaurant on State Street. He ordered a bottle of Chianti and, while they waited for their pasta dinner for two, they drank wine and relaxed.

Without her lab jacket on, her peach-colored crinkly top brought out all of the finest aspects of her complexion. Her eyes looked more green than hazel tonight, and she gave him an inquisitive glance as he watched her sip her drink. He’d noticed her mouth on several occasions, but hadn’t allowed himself to study the fullness of her lips. They looked smooth and soft and he wondered what it would be like to kiss them.

The wine had obviously gone right to his head, and when the waiter brought out the fresh baked bread he slathered a piece with butter and took a large bite. Anything to get his mind off her mouth.

“You like to sail?” she asked.

“It’s my passion. Nothing like it in the world. You?”

“I’ve never had the opportunity to try it.”

He told her about the summer he hired on as a deck hand on a schooner and sailed all the way to Hawaii, and
how he’d owned his first sloop by the age of twenty-one. It had been a birthday gift from his parents for finishing his pre-med courses a year early. His current schooner,
Hanna’s Haven
, had been a gift to himself when he’d passed the family practice boards.

He’d wanted to spend his honeymoon sailing around the Caribbean but Jessica hadn’t been a natural born sailor, and they’d flown there instead. He didn’t tell Claire
that
part of the story and, while he ate more pasta, he pondered how all the roads in his life seemed to lead back to Jessica.

In turn, Claire told him about her upbringing in Los Angeles, how she’d wanted to be a gymnast when she was little, but had grown too tall and had turned out to be a bit clumsy, and since she couldn’t cut it as a gymnast had decided she’d become a nurse. She finished by telling him how she’d gone to Santa Barbara University and could never get herself to move back home after that.

And after a satisfying dinner following a strained and uncomfortable week, they looked at each other in a different light, more on the lines of the prior weekend when they’d forged new ground, established respect for each other, and become unlikely friends.

“You seemed to have a rough week,” Claire said, running her finger around the edge of her almost-empty wine glass.

“I’ve had worse. I’m OK now.”

“If you ever want to talk about it,” she said, “I’d be glad to listen.”

He nodded, feeling the Chianti warm his chest. With
his hunger satisfied, and no desire to open up about himself, Jason suggested they walk up the street for ice cream. That way he wouldn’t have to keep gazing into her empathetic, appealing eyes.

“I think after tonight I’ll have made up for all the weight I lost when I was sick,” she said as they strolled.

He glanced from her head to her open-toed shoes. She always painted her toenails, and he liked that. She wore beige slacks instead of her usual skirt or dress and, though a little thin, for the first time he noticed how nicely shaped she was. “That’s not a bad thing, is it?”

Jason knew that figuring out the female psyche and ideal weight was beyond his capabilities, so he trod lightly.

She laughed, and there was that babbling brook image again. He smiled at her, grateful she hadn’t taken offense on any level, and they continued to walk up State Street on the brisk but clear evening.

Maybe tonight, for just one night, he could forget…

Claire glanced at Jason as they ambled up the red-brick walk toward the ice cream store. She’d learned more about him tonight, yet still felt he was mostly a stranger. He never seemed to completely open up, and it made her think he was an emotionally unavailable man. That was the last thing she was looking for. She’d been married to one, and look how horribly that had turned out. She’d never repeat the same mistake.

This was just dinner with a business associate. They’d admitted their patient and had been hungry. It only made sense he’d ask her to eat with him. So why was she making more out of it than it was?

Because the restaurant had been cozy and romantic, with white tablecloths and dim candlelight. Because the conversation had come easy and she’d kept getting lost in his ocean-at-dusk-colored eyes. Because she couldn’t deny it any longer—she was attracted to Jason. He was a skilled and dedicated doctor who loved his patients. Unbeknownst to her, he’d been the force behind the medical group that she’d discovered in the renovated Victorian house, the place where she’d yearned to work. He was kind to her daughter. And he’d proved to be a concerned business partner when he’d gone the extra mile last Friday night to bring her pay check, and he’d surprised her even more with a gourmet breakfast Saturday morning.

Chianti or no Chianti, she found him extremely attractive, even liked the way he talked, with his deeper than average voice. He had a wide smile when he cared to share one with her, and masculine lips, the kind that had made her mind wander to kissing when he’d told her about sailing. She found it fascinating how his beard had darkened as the day progressed into the evening, was glad she’d been around to notice, and surprised to realize she wanted to touch the stubble.

He glanced at her and tilted his head with an inquisitive expression when he realized she’d been studying him. Again.

Thankfully, they’d reached the ice cream store because her line of thinking needed to stop.

“How should we work this?” Jason asked later, after
scooping up the last of his ice cream from the small foam cup. “Should I drive you back to the clinic to get your car, or should we buy Gina a mini ice cream and take it right to her?”

“That’s sweet of you, but no. It would just get her all wired. You can take me back to my car. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her feelings. But thanks for thinking about her.” His small, yet considerate gestures kept adding up, and it made him hard to resist.

Fifteen minutes later he’d parked in the medical clinic lot and something told Claire to be still. Jason didn’t make a move to get out of the car; he stared straight ahead for a few moments, and she could hear each breath he took. Then he turned toward her. “I can’t remember the last time I asked a woman out to dinner.”

She wanted to brush off his statement. To say
oh, I’m just a business associate, we were working late and got hungry
, but she didn’t want to believe that. And he’d hinted that he’d made a point of asking her to dinner. He didn’t have to. It complicated things, and she opted to keep the mood light by mocking herself.

“I’m glad you did,” she said, “even if I had to go to great lengths to figure out a way to get a patient to take toxic herbs, and get hospitalized, in order to get you to ask me.” She grinned.

He grinned back. “So this was all your devious plan,” he deadpanned.

“Oh, yes. I thought of everything.”

His smile slipped away as his steady gaze melded with hers. “Then I’m glad, too.”

She couldn’t fight the growing attraction, even
though it was the last thing in the world she needed right now. She also considered herself good at reading people—a natural ability that she’d enhanced with her homeopathy studies—and, by the look on Jason’s face, he seemed deeply interested in her, too.

He leaned toward her. With the smoky tinge to his eyes, she knew what he planned.

Before she had a chance to think one extra thought, his mouth covered hers. The lips she’d wondered about were warm and smooth, and they fit perfectly over hers. She relaxed and let him take the lead, enjoying the feel of him. Though waning, the sandalwood scent of his aftershave still invited her closer. He slowly pulled back, but she wanted more. She followed his mouth and pressed her moistened lips to his and, to keep him from retreating more, her hand caressed his jaw and neck. His ear was warm and she finally got to test the stubble on his cheek. She didn’t detect any resistance from him when she kissed him again.

She loved the sounds they made when their lips parted to kiss again and again. He kissed her lower lip, and tugged on it, and sleepy sensations tugged in other areas of her body. His hand found her back and he drew her closer. They breathed over each other; she sighed, and kissed him harder. He deepened the kiss, making it moist and silky. Their tongues met and a tiny sound escaped her throat. He must have liked it. His hand kneaded her back as their tongues continued to test and explore. Her fingers splayed into his hair. It was thick and newly trimmed across his neck. She wanted more kisses and planted several of her
own as a sensual awareness started to throb deep within her.

And then he ended it. He abruptly dropped his hand and backed away from her mouth. A complicated expression shadowed his face. Was he appalled by what they’d done, or just not into her?

All she knew was that she missed his warmth. She missed how his barriers had tumbled down as they’d kissed, and how he’d pulled her tight, inviting her to know him a little deeper with each kiss.

But it was over now. He was back to staring out the car windshield, and she felt obligated to say something. She didn’t want to make a single comment about the kisses, preferring to hoard them rather than allow him to steal them back with an apology or an excuse. They were real and they’d felt wonderful. One second he’d been warm and inviting, the next his lips had turned to marble and he’d disappeared.

The kiss probably didn’t mean a thing to him. It was just a bit of extra-curricular activity on his part, and she’d taken it too seriously. It served her right for breaking her own rule about getting involved with a man again. How easily Jason had persuaded her to reconsider that vow.

Claire reached for the door handle and opened the door. “Thank you for dinner, Jason. I really enjoyed myself.” Even after scolding herself, she still hoped he’d hear the double message. How messed up was that?

He turned slowly to face her. Night shadows slanted across his jaw, making it hard for her to read his expression. “You’re welcome,” was all he said, with a distant stare.

Jason watched Claire get into her car; his hands gripped the steering wheel in a lifesaving strangle. What the hell had he done?

He’d come out of hibernation; let his guard down enough to enjoy Claire’s company. He’d noticed her sensual mouth, enjoyed every second of their shared kisses, discovered he wanted to ravage her, then the dark thoughts had returned. How could he be unfaithful to Jessica? To this day, her memory wouldn’t let go of him. And his guilt would never let him forget.