The Surgeon's Surprise Twins (11 page)

Although Owen tried to turn a deaf ear to hospital undercurrents, he soon discovered that word of his blowup with Bailey had spread far and wide. He shouldn't have been surprised, knowing how open she was, but respect cut both ways. This matter should have been kept strictly between them.

Still, he couldn't muster up enough outrage to challenge her about it. For one thing, she proved an ideal nurse for the rest of the week, staying on top of developments, working skillfully with patients and anticipating his needs as a doctor. Too bad that, under the circumstances, he had zero chance of securing her in that position on a permanent basis.

Working as well as living with her, Owen had become keenly aware of the babies' day-by-day development. Normally, he only saw maternity patients once a month at this stage, and took the miraculous changes more or less for granted. But these were
his
children swelling her abdomen.

And then there was Bailey herself. Bailey who sang beautifully in the shower and left funny little notes in the refrigerator (“Hands off or you die!”). When she paused to put her feet up in the middle of the day, he felt concern rather than annoyance. When he saw her eating lunch
with Ned, a wave of something akin to jealousy washed over him.

On Thursday, when he arrived home early enough to sing a couple of duets with her—they'd exhausted their favorites from Rodgers and Hammerstein and moved on to
My Fair Lady
—Owen nearly told her the truth about his paternity. He wasn't sure what good it would do, but she deserved to know, and besides, he held out the sneaking hope that she'd draw a little closer to him and a little farther from her pal Ned. But then he remembered how she'd spread word of his apology.

Most secrets caused only temporary embarrassment when they traveled through the hospital grapevine. If they reached the press, they ran off like raindrops on an airplane. But Owen feared that the news of his involvement in this soap opera surrogacy situation might cause a crash landing. So he kept it to himself.

On Friday morning, he spent a couple of hours in Dr. Rayburn's office with Jennifer Martin and, by videoconference from her office in Louisville, Chandra Yashimoto, the Medical Center Management vice-president. They reviewed plans for the opening the following month, including a series of press conferences, seminars and events for the public.

These would be followed, in October, by a meeting in Los Angeles of the International Society of Embryology and Reproductive Fertility, at which Owen was to be the keynote speaker. Alec Denny had also been tapped for a prestigious panel. One of the highlights would be a paper presented by Cole Ratigan, M.D., the specialist from Minneapolis whom Owen had sought to head his men's fertility program.

“The conference will give you two a chance to get better
acquainted,” Chandra suggested. “Maybe you can change his mind. Otherwise we'll have to find someone else.”

Owen ground his teeth. When he fixed his aim on a specialist, he hated having to settle for a second or third choice. “Surely the corporation can sweeten its offer.”

“I took the liberty of calling him personally.” Chandra, normally tough as nails, cleared her throat in what looked, on the computer screen, like embarrassment. “It seems that money isn't the issue.”

“What is?” Mark Rayburn asked.

“He's concerned that there might be a clash of personalities.”

That surprised Owen. “With me?”

“He gave that impression,” the executive said.

Owen had never crossed swords with Cole that he could recall. In fact, their interaction at previous conferences had been pleasant. “I'm floored.”

No one spoke.

“Okay, I can be hard to get along with,” Owen conceded. “But only…”
Only for people who're working under me. Which Cole would be.
Was his reputation really that bad?

“Moving right along, who else do you have in mind?” Chandra asked.

He provided a couple of names. They wrapped up the videoconference by eleven-fifteen, which gave him a chance to drop by his hospital office down the hall from Mark's before heading to the medical building next door.

Hurrying into the outer office, Owen gave a start as a blond man jumped to his feet. What was Ned Norwalk doing here—planning to challenge him to a duel over Bailey? Well, she hadn't been singing duets with Ned lately, so he doubted the fellow had a chance. “Yes?”

“Nurse Norwalk asked to wait for you,” the receptionist put in. “I hope that's all right.”

Despite his irritation, Owen reminded himself that the man might have business of a nonpersonal nature. Besides, it was hardly fair to vent at the guy simply for the crime of eating lunch with Bailey. “Of course,” he said. “Come in.”

The nurse gave a quick nod and followed. Judging by his rapid breathing, he was nervous about something.

Growing more curious by the minute, Owen offered him a chair and then sat behind the desk. “What's on your mind?”

“I'd like to work for you.” Ned swallowed as if about to say something further, then sat back and waited.

“I beg your pardon?” Owen took a moment to grasp the man's meaning. “You mean in my office?”

Ned nodded. The fellow was offering to take over as Owen's nurse. That was unexpected. “Mind if I ask why?”

“Even in high school, I liked taking care of people. I used to work summers as a lifeguard. At first, when I decided to become a nurse, my friends teased me, but I knew it was right for me.” Ned spoke with a thoughtfulness Owen hadn't noticed before. Not that he'd paid much attention.

Owen had never worked closely with a male nurse. “That doesn't explain why you're seeking a transfer from surgery. That
is
what you're doing now, I believe.”

“That's right, sir.” Ned's steady manner was growing on Owen. “As I said, I like people. Listening to them. Making sure nothing gets overlooked. In surgery, I barely meet them before they're anesthetized. And when I work the recovery room, they're so groggy that mostly I'm just checking their vital signs.”

“We're going to have a number of new physicians joining the staff,” Owen said. “Why choose me? I'm a notorious pain in the neck.”

Ned's mouth twisted wryly. “I have to admit, you did
snap at me without good cause, and everybody knows about your problems with Keely. Hope you don't mind my being candid.”

“I don't.” Owen preferred honesty to simmering resentment.

The younger man shrugged. “Erica speaks highly of you. According to the grapevine, Keely walked out—you didn't fire her, so I can't hold that against you. And there's a certain prestige in working for a doctor in your position.”

Was the fellow seeking status? If so, it would come at a high cost. “Make sure you understand that I'm tough to work for. I have very high standards, and I don't make nice with people's feelings.”

“But when Bailey called you on your behavior, you were gracious enough to apologize,” Ned replied.

Owen's jaw tightened. “She shouldn't have discussed that with other staff members.”

“She didn't.” The nurse frowned. “I mean, only after someone else spoke about it first. I'm not sure who, to tell you the truth.”

“Then how can you be sure it wasn't Bailey?”

“She was unhappy that we'd all heard about it.” Ned seemed to be searching his memory. “She mentioned something about the leak having been taken care of. Then she clammed up, which is totally unlike Bailey. Or used to be.”

That left only one other possibility as the source. Annoyed as Owen felt about the receptionist, she
was
young. He decided to get Bailey's input before taking any action, since she apparently believed she'd handled the problem.

In any event, he had a decision to make about Ned's request. Frankly, it struck Owen as a good idea. A male nurse might not be quite as easily wounded as some of the women he'd worked with, and besides, he liked the fellow's directness.

“How does a three-month trial sound?” he said. “As long as you do your best, I promise not to hold it against you if it doesn't work out. By then you should have your choice of new physicians.”

Ned let out a long breath. “Thank you, sir.” He got to his feet, as did Owen, and the two shook hands across the desk. “You won't be disappointed.”

“I appreciate your honesty. In moderation.”

And,
Owen mused as the nurse sauntered out with a light step,
I also appreciate your telling me about Bailey.

She hadn't shot off her mouth at his expense. That meant a lot.

 

B
AILEY COULD HAVE SWORN
Owen had been paying close attention to her midsection all week. He'd been unusually attentive to her physical needs, too—massaging her shoulders on Thursday after she finished playing the keyboard, and encouraging her to put her feet up when they had a break between patients at the office.

She supposed some men found pregnant women attractive, but she'd picked up enough of his background from Erica to know that his dating choices tended toward sophisticated, high-powered and definitely
un
-pregnant ladies. As for his being the uncle, he and Boone weren't exactly close, so why should he care?

That left the possibility that he liked her. Which was really strange, since she was about as far from his usual type as you could get. The whole thing puzzled her and, worse, she couldn't discuss it with anyone. Not Patty, who was engaged to Owen's colleague. Besides, she was caught up in the ongoing debate about her wedding plans. Not Nora, because, even had she been here, she could hardly be expected to sympathize with Bailey's feelings on the subject of Dr. Tartikoff.

Which were…which were…

That she got tingly when he touched her. That she dreamed about floating in the hot tub with a nearly naked Owen, helping him lift her wet T-shirt over her head. That she replayed those dreams while wide-awake and eating a peanut butter sandwich in the office on Friday.

Blame it on the pregnancy hormones. Blame it on the long drought in her love life. Blame it on chemistry.

Bailey used to wish that, once in her life, she could fall completely and deeply in love. She didn't expect the guy to stick around, and once or twice she'd thought that she
might
be on the verge of falling in love. But a few tears and a week or so of misery had dispelled all that.

Owen was different. Her feelings scared her. If something happened between them, it would inevitably end badly. He'd go on his way, aloof and in charge and the center of everyone's attention. As for Bailey's pathetic excuse for a heart, she could already feel it threatening to betray her.

Well, she'd better whip it into shape, she decided as she finished the sandwich, because here he came, wearing a bemused expression. With an inward sigh, she lowered her feet and brushed the crumbs off the counter of the nurses' station. Although they didn't schedule regular patient visits on Friday, Owen reserved time after lunch for those who needed follow-ups or last-minute consults, and the women should be arriving shortly.

“Couple of things,” he said, stopping in front of the station.

With a paper napkin, Bailey took a surreptitious swipe at her mouth and then sneaked a glance at the resulting smear. Darn. Peanut butter
and
jelly. “Did I miss anything?”

“On your face? No.” Owen cocked his head. “Where's Caroline?”

Since he'd never so much as pronounced the receptionist's name in Bailey's hearing before, this struck her as odd. “She should be here any minute. She was filling in at Dr. Forrest's office this morning.”

“She was the one who blabbed about our little squabble on Tuesday, wasn't she?” he said.

Uh-oh. Since he'd never mentioned the subject, Bailey had hoped he wasn't aware of the grapevine chatter. “Yes. I reprimanded her. She seemed to understand she'd behaved unprofessionally. Who told you?”

“Process of elimination.”

“The only person you could have eliminated was me,” she said. “What took you so long, and if you were ticked about it, why didn't you say so?”

He started to laugh. “Isn't there a limit on how many questions you can ask in one sentence?”

“Not that I'm aware of.”

The man was in a remarkably good humor. He should be crabby, considering that as of Monday he'd be without a nurse again. “Spill,” she said.

“I just took on Ned Norwalk as my new nurse.” A grin played around the corners of his mouth as he watched her.

“You what?” Ned would be furious. He might even quit. “Whose big idea was that?”

“Ned's,” Owen said.

Bailey's jaw dropped. It irked her to see that Owen was enjoying her reaction, but she didn't think he was making this up. “And you agreed?”

“He strikes me as competent, and I think he can handle my occasional flare-ups without bursting into tears.”

“If you're too rough on him, we'll mock you behind your back,” Bailey warned.

Owen shrugged. “I expect nothing less. Listen, since it's our last day together, so to speak, stick around after the patients leave. I'll let Caroline go home early.”

“And?”

“You're at sixteen weeks,” he said. “Let's do another ultrasound. If the babies cooperate, we might be able to tell the sex.”

No matter how dubious she felt about the prospect of being alone with him, the opportunity was too good to pass up. “You're on. And Owen?”

An eyebrow lifted questioningly.

“Thanks.”

“My pleasure,” he said.

Not entirely his pleasure, Bailey thought ruefully. Because no matter how hard her brain cried out to be careful, her body ached for the sensual pleasure of his touch as he shared a rare moment of closeness with her and whatever little people lay inside.