The Millionaire and the M.D.

By: Teresa Southwick



That could be pertinent information. “Is she nervous about having a baby?”

“I don’t know.”

“You might try getting her to open up about that,” she suggested.

“Maybe.”

Suddenly all traces of charm disappeared and he looked angry, reminding Rebecca a lot of his sister. “How about you?”

“Me? What?”

“Losing your mother, especially unexpectedly from complications of childbirth, must have been very traumatic.”

“It was a long time ago.”

Rebecca had learned that what people didn’t talk about was often as important as what they did. “The fact is your sister is going to have a baby. Did you ever hear her say she doesn’t want children?”

“No.”

He shifted his shoulders when he answered, as if he were uncomfortable with the question. Something was very off between these two and that begged the question—why would Amy turn to a brother who hadn’t been there for her? It was a logical assumption that she believed he was the only one between her and the streets and she had nowhere else to go. In reality their issues were only Rebecca’s problem if it affected the health of her patient and the infant she carried. But tell that to the part of her that was overly curious, in a very female way, about this man. She didn’t like that she was interested.

For that reason she wished she could champion his cause of convincing Amy to go home. But that crossed the line between professional and personal. “So I guess I’ve made my position clear?”

“You have.” His mouth pulled tight. “And I’ll do the same. If I can’t convince my sister she’d be better off in Texas, then I will be involved. I’ll be there for her.”

Rebecca nodded. “Okay, then.”

“So what can you tell me? What can I do?”

“It’s important that she eats right. She really is eating for two. The baby will get what it needs from her and that will take a toll on her body unless she replenishes with proper nutrition. She needs to hydrate herself. No soda. Juice and water are best. Lots of sleep. And she’s supposed to call the office to set up an appointment for an ultrasound.”

“Okay. I’ll see she does all that. What else?”

“Encourage her to share her feelings. This is a life-altering event. You haven’t made a secret of the fact that you’re not happy she’s here. As much as possible, let her know she’s not alone.”

“Okay. Thanks, Doc.”

When he put his hand out, Rebecca only hesitated a second before putting her fingers in his palm. It was warm and strong, and again she had the sensation of not being able to draw in enough air.

Since Amy had gone to her brother in her time of need, it was a good thing he had, however reluctantly, decided to support her. It was good for Amy, not so much for Rebecca. It meant she hadn’t seen the last of him as she’d hoped.

But that was today. From experience Rebecca knew that tomorrow he could decide it was all too much trouble and that would be that. She’d learned the only one she could count on was herself and hoped her patient wasn’t in for a similar painful lesson at the worst possible time.



Gabe turned his BMW right from Siena Heights onto Eastern Avenue and crawled through the congestion to Horizon Ridge Parkway. Wasn’t it handy that Dr. Rebecca Hamilton had her office up the street from Mercy Medical Center? He had a portable trailer set up there for his office, which made it easier to supervise construction on the hospital expansion. But the short drive didn’t give him a lot of time to plan what he’d say to the doc when he read her the riot act. What kind of game was she playing? He and Amy had their problems, but he wouldn’t stand by and do nothing when his sister’s medical needs were being ignored.

Just past the Radiology Center he turned left into the parking lot and pulled into an empty space. The desert landscaping outside the medical building was rock and shrubs—different from the lush bushes, grass and trees in Texas. But he knew from his last visit that the inside would bring back memories he’d done his damnedest to forget.

And as for Doc Goody Two-shoes, she talked a good game. Miss I’ll-Treat-Her-No-Matter-What might look like an angel, but not so much. He had a bone to pick with her.

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