Playboy Doctor (20 page)

How were they supposed to work together today, acting as if nothing had happened between them? He recalled the first time he'd kissed her. Mind blowing. Shortly after, they'd reached a decision to behave like professional adults while inside the walls of Baycoast Memorial.

Easier said than done.

But he'd never jeopardize the lives of his patients. He would remain focused and not allow his personal life to interfere. After working with Willow, he trusted she'd do the same.

Speaking of trust, his morning run did nothing to excise the memory of Willow's confession. She'd revealed the truth about her blood disease that kept her from having children—having
his
children. The reality jabbed him. Willow should have shared this tiny detail with him sooner.

He'd built her up in his mind, been so intimate with a wonderful woman only to discover the truth. A hot chill coursed through his blood.

Despite his frustration, if he were honest, he could recall times she'd tried to tell him. He remembered her cryptic words, saying he could never fix her circumstances. He'd been so mired in his attraction to her, he'd ignored the signs of her tentativeness. He'd wanted nothing to interfere with the magic of his time with her, no matter the outcome.

Yes, he'd held her to an impossible standard and forgot about her humanness. So capable of loving everyone around her. But also capable making a mistake. She had made a mistake, hadn't she? Maybe not. She admitted that knowing how he'd react drove her to keep her medical condition a secret.

He'd always thrown himself on the side of caution. Yet the more time he'd spent with Willow, the more he leaned on the side of trust. He'd let his guard down and opened up. Just a crack. He shouldn't have. He had too much at stake. Too much at risk. His career. His future. And yes, his old wounded heart. With so much on the line, he shouldn't have gotten close, leaving himself vulnerable.

And yet, Willow made it easy to do just that.

Willow had proven one thing; his heart may have been cracked, but not completely broken. After what Fiona had done to him, keeping the truth from him, he could have completely raged out on her. Instead, he kept his cool for the sake of her son. And now Willow had kept the truth from him but did so to spare him. Were the two circumstances different? Could he believe Willow's heart was in the right place?

Yes, the inner voice told him. He recalled the anguish in her eyes when she'd confessed the truth. Surely, it had been eating her up inside and hard for her to admit something so painfully private.

And what did he do after she revealed the heart-wrenching truth?

He'd turned on her. Laid into her for it.

He'd allowed the demons of his past to dictate how he'd respond. And he'd responded horribly. His own stubbornness and yes, distrust, got the best of him. And it all occurred on the tail end of the conversation with his brother Grant. After the call, a long withheld seeping anger had filled his insides, only for him to unleash it on Willow.

While hiding her condition from him could have been construed as living a lie, that wasn't what struck a bitter cord. She couldn't share the full truth with him, which confirmed his suspicions all along about himself; he was not trustworthy. He'd proven that point with his reaction to her.

What a wretch.

How could he act that way to her?

He had to see her.

Shayne pumped his legs and sprinted back toward the flat.

An hour later, before his shift began, Shayne stalked the hospital halls in search of Willow until seeing her at the nurse's station. He'd missed her terribly in the short time he'd gone without holding her in his arms. With a determined stride, he approached the desk. Willow glanced up at him. He waited for her to light up like a roman candle like she always did when she saw him.

Her eyes dimmed; her lips settled to a flat line.

No roman candle. No delight.

His chest knocked at the chilly reception.

Bloody hell
.

* * *

Willow couldn't believe her eyes. Was Shayne actually standing before her? But why? Their shift hadn't begun, so what did he want? To start another fight? Give her a good dressing down? He'd annihilated her enough with his false accusations over the weekend and she didn't want to hear anymore.

Her nerves firing off, she looked back down at her paperwork in a refusal to acknowledge him. She would have nothing to do with him until the little red seconds-hand hit the twelve on her watch, indicating the start of their shift. Until then, she would pretend he didn't exist, feigning interest in her papers. But the papers became too blurred to read due to her shaking hands. She tried to calm her nerves. Had to appear outwardly strong. Unaffected. Disinterested. Maybe then he'd just go away because she couldn't handle it if he reamed her out again.

Shayne continued to take up the space before her; she continued to ignore him. Why wouldn't he take the hint? She wanted nothing to do with him. Why wouldn't he leave her alone? Why not just bolt out of her life as sharply and quickly as he'd bolted in that first night? Surely he'd have to give up on her any second now and leave her alone.

The man didn't budge.

He was infuriating!

She continued to fake-read the paperwork she couldn't even see, despite her pulse raging and her temples throbbing. Oh, he was impossible. Stubborn to no end!

Shayne laid steady palms to the desk. He leaned in close. The hot energy coming from him swirled around her. Like a giant vortex, his commanding demeanor sucked her in. Against her own will, she drew her gaze to his. She found herself staring into those dark brooding eyes. Even now, Shayne demanded her undivided attention. She hated her own feebleness when around him. Trying to stay strong, she put on airs that she wouldn't be kicked around like a dog.

She challenged him with daggers in her eyes and thrust an angry chin up at him.

"What do you want?" she snapped, surprised by her own exasperation.

"Willow, it's not the blood disorder that threw me," he said then took a breath. "It's that you didn't trust me enough to tell me. Or care enough."

"I care more than you know," she retorted. "That's the problem."

"If so, then why didn't you tell me?"

"I was scared."

"I never want you scared around me."

"I'm sure you don't, but truthfully, you scare the hell out of me."

She was mostly scared of her future with him. Of disappointing him. Of not giving him the life he wanted deep down. She was scared of eventually driving him into the arms of another woman who could give him what he wanted, his own flesh and blood. One woman had robbed him of a child in his past. She couldn't rob him of one in his future.

She had to be rid of him. Spare herself the inevitable heartbreak. And spare him the emotional expense of...
settling
.

"I don't blame you for being scared, especially after how I treated you. I never should have reacted the way I did, not with you. But after Fiona—"

"I get it. Another woman broke your heart and I suffer the emotional aftermath."

"A thousand sorries can't express how I feel about hurting you. I shouldn't have been so selfish. I only knew I wanted you. In my arms. In my bed. I took advantage, knowing how much I wanted to be with you."

His sincere words wore her down. She was just as selfish. "I gave willingly," she admitted.

"I'm leaving," he said. "Tonight."

"What?" Willow's heart jumped into her throat. "A week early?"

"Scheduling conflict. I'm headed home for a few days then off to the Royal Children's Hospital in Melbourne."

"Melbourne? As in Australia?" she eeked out.

"But I come to the States at least once a year. Maybe we can..."

"Oh, Shayne, don't say it. You didn't even know where you would be this week. How will you know about next year?"

"Then you'll come to me. Visit me in London—"

"Stop, please," she uttered. "Stop what you're doing—"

"What am I doing?"

"Pretending. Just see it for what it was. A couple of beautiful nights, a beautiful time. We're both consenting adults. Let's not confuse it with anything more than that," her voice quaked, but she had to be firm as she gave him the out that he needed.

He set his grim stare on her. "I'm supposed to deny any feelings I have for you?"

"You have to. They'll do you no good in London, or Melbourne, or who-knows-where."

"I refuse."

"You don't have a choice," she snapped. She had to insist that he be set free or they would both end up prisoners of her medical condition.

"I warned you before, you had no idea what I was capable of. I didn't just spend the best nights of my life with a woman and have it mean nothing."

"I'm begging you, please don't—"

"Too late. Damage is done."

A shadow of emotion eclipsed his face, something Willow couldn't read easily. Disappointment? Hurt, perhaps? Whatever he implied, she wouldn't allow it.

"Shayne, you arrive at hospitals and save lives. Before you let anyone see you for you, and care about you, you're saying good-bye." Willow took a long pause, her lower lip trembled. "So... good-bye," she finally whispered.

"Willow, trust me on this, I'm imploring you," Shayne said. "Don't shut me out. And don't isolate yourself. You'll end up alone and it will be of your own doing. I should know. I'm an expert."

Willow slammed the papers onto the desk. "What would you have me do, Doctor?"

"For starters, don't hide behind your medical condition, not when we have options."

"We? There is no 'we.' And there are no options, not after what I've been through."

"You use this disorder to keep from seeing what the world has to offer. From what I have to offer."

"And what is that? What, exactly, do you have to offer?" Her sharp demand sliced the air. "Tell me, Shayne, what could you possibly have to offer?"

* * *

Willow watched in surprise as Shayne stepped back, his jaw fallen lax. Her loaded question had a more painful effect on him than she expected. But she read into his response. Admitting her blood disorder to him had been a terrible blow. His noble air couldn't cover up his pain over their situation. He couldn't commit any more than she could.

"I don't know what the future holds. But I'm willing to take a chance and explore it if it means I'm with you," he said.

"It's not enough, Shayne, for either one of us," Willow whispered "I'm sorry."

"That's not acceptable."

She wanted to throttle him over his stubbornness. Didn't he see what he had? He had a chance at a future with kids of his own—unlike her. Family was something she couldn't give him. She refused to deny him the very thing he wanted in life. His pain ran deep, she knew that, but it did so because of his boundless potential to love. Shayne deserved love, whether he believed it or not. The only way he could achieve his dream of a family was with her out of his life forever. Her heart protested the idea, but she knew what she had to do.

"You have to accept my decision. I've gone through too much. Do you know what my husband told me the day he walked out? He admitted to secretly hoping to lose the babies every time. He was relieved I lost them... all that pain I went through."

Shayne shook his head. "I couldn't imagine."

"It was hurtful and humiliating. I could never go through that again. That's why I didn't tell you about the blood disorder. I'll never risk that kind of pain again and I certainly wouldn't risk it with you." Her throat tightened at spitting out horrible words to this man, but she absolutely had to make him walk out of her life forever.

Like a swollen levy about to burst, she held back the emotions churning within her. She had to let him go, even if it meant cruelly lashing out at him.

"You'll miss your plane if you don't leave," she whispered as coolly as possible.

"This can't be good-bye." Shayne reached across the desk for her hand.

She pulled her hand back. She would have none of it. Couldn't endure his searing touch. The feel of him would only anchor itself to the soul-wrenching reality of his leaving.

"I can't say good-bye to you again, Dr. Edwards, please don't make me. I can't do it. You must go."

Shayne froze. Didn't dare reach for her again. Those handsomely carved features of his sank into mournful defeat. "So that's how it's to be?"

"It has to," she said.

"So, no future for us?"

"No."

"Not even the promise of one?"

Willow paused. Up until now, somewhere deep inside, she had harbored a glimmer of hope for happiness with Shayne. But that glimmer had folded in on itself and vanished to a wisp. She would grieve the loss later. She bravely held her position.

"I never believed we had a chance," she told him. The lie, like a hot ember, scarred her lips. "You have to go," she repeated, praying the tremor in her voice didn't betray her pain.

"So that's what you really want, Willow?" Shayne asked, the intensity in his eye fading to defeat. "And for you to live the rest of your life alone, always wondering, what might have been?"

"I don't have to wonder. I already know. I've been through this before, remember?"

"So you've decided I'd undoubtedly hurt you, as well. Already put me in the same category as that ex-husband of yours. For the record, I've done nothing wrong to deserve this."

The hurt shadowing Shayne's eyes ripped her in two. She didn't intend to crush him, but rather, just wanted him to see the truth of the situation the way she saw it.

Willow yearned to hold him just long enough to explain why he had to let this idea go. Why he had to let
her
go. "I don't want to be hurt any more than you," she uttered.

"You're making sure of that. I'm sorry you feel you have to do this, Willow."

His proud exterior crumbled before her. Shayne backed away, as though her very nearness wounded him. He dipped his head in a somber good-bye, turned on a sharp heel, and thundered down the hall.

Chapter 17