She was hired to rebuild his reputation…

But will this doc be too hot to handle?

After successfully fighting a year-long lawsuit, handsome and rebellious surgeon Rex Maxwell is ready to get back on top of his game! So when buttoned-up but beautiful PR exec Tiffani Romano insists on making him the centre of his hospital’s campaign he reluctantly agrees. And even though she tries hard not to let him, Rex is determined to get under her skin…

SUSAN CARLISLE’s love affair with books began in the sixth grade, when she made a bad grade in mathematics. Not allowed to watch TV until she’d brought the grade up, Susan filled her time with books. She turned her love of reading into a passion for writing, and now has over ten Medical Romances published through Mills & Boon. She writes about hot, sexy docs and the strong women who captivate them. Visit SusanCarlisle.com.

Also By Susan Carlisle

The Doctor’s RedemptionHis Best Friend’s BabyOne Night Before ChristmasMarried for the Boss’s BabyWhite Wedding for a Southern BelleThe Doctor’s Sleigh Bell ProposalThe Surgeon’s CinderellaStolen Kisses with Her BossChristmas with the Best Man

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Redeeming the Rebel Doc

Susan Carlisle

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-07497-1

REDEEMING THE REBEL DOC

© 2018 Susan Carlisle

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk

To Jeanie,

I couldn’t have asked for a better sister-in-law.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

Extract

CHAPTER ONE

“RETRACTOR!” SNAPPED Dr. Rex Maxwell.

His surgical nurse quickly placed it in his palm.

“We need to find this bleeder. Suction.” With a gentle movement, Rex lifted the liver as his assistant, standing across the OR table from him at Metropolitan Hospital in Memphis, Tennessee, obeyed his command.

Rex watched intently for any sign of red liquid. This patient had come through the emergency department the night before and one of his colleagues had patched the man up but the patient wasn’t recovering as he should. His midsection had swelled. There was internal bleeding. Rex was known as the “go-to man” who handled hard-to-find problems like this. He didn’t disappoint. Confident in his skills as a surgeon, his success rate had proved him more than competent. Except in one case.

His heart jumped as he spotted the problem. “Found it. Sutures.”

“That figures. You find them when no one else can,” the anesthesiologist said, admiration in his tone.

Rex looked over his mask at the man. “Thanks.”

Over the next few minutes Rex repaired the leak. He was almost finished when the phone on the wall rang. A nurse answered. Seconds later she hung up. “Rex, you’re wanted in Administration as soon as you’re done here.”

He muttered a word that his mother would scold him for using. Polite people didn’t use words like that. But, then, to her, life was about always making the right impression.

An hour later he trudged down the wide tiled hallway toward the hospital administration offices. With a patient in surgery prep who had been pushed back hours because of the bleeder, Rex should be back in surgery, not on his way to a meeting he wasn’t interested in being a part of. Hadn’t he spent enough time in the last twelve months with Dr. Nelson, the hospital administrator? Being arbitrarily summoned to Nelson’s office should have stopped when the unpleasant malpractice suit had been settled.

Rex had endlessly replayed the details of that night and that surgery in his mind and had told lawyers the tale of what had occurred more than once.

He’d been called in late on a Saturday night after having been to a club on a date. Since he had been on call he hadn’t been drinking and when he’d arrived at the hospital the patient had already been prepped for surgery. It hadn’t been until after he was in the OR that he’d learned his patient was Mr. Royster, the man who had been both his father’s best friend and chairman of the board of the country club when his father had filed for bankruptcy. Royster was also the father of Rex’s ex-girlfriend, who had dumped him because she’d been ashamed of being seen on Rex’s arm after his family’s financial downfall had become public knowledge.

The situation with Mr. Royster’s perforated stomach had by now deteriorated to the point that he’d had little chance of surviving even with surgery. The repair hadn’t been difficult but the chance of serious infection had been high. Less than twenty-four hours post-op Mr. Royster had steadily been going downhill. In another forty-eight, he was gone.

Devastated and grief-stricken to the point that they couldn’t accept what had happened, Royster’s family had lashed out by filing a malpractice suit against Rex, accusing him of not taking the necessary medical steps to save Royster’s life in retaliation for how he and his family had been ostracized all those years ago. Powered by the family’s money and influence, the case had gone further than it should have. The most damage had been done by the Roysters’ manipulation of the media, which had dragged the hospital into the nastiness.

The relationship between Rex and Dr. Nelson had been contentious at best while the hospital had been faced with the possibility of paying millions in damages. Rex’s career, as well as his and the hospital’s reputation, would still take years to repair. Thankfully, though, both he and the hospital had come through the experience bruised and battered, and both were still in business. So what could Dr. Nelson possibly want now?

Opening the glass door of the administrative suite, Rex went straight to the assistant’s desk. “Marsha, please let Dr. Nelson know I’m here.”

She nodded toward a closed door. “Go on in. He’s waiting on you.”

Relief washed through him. At least he didn’t have to waste time waiting. He checked his watch as he entered Nelson’s office. He was determined to get to his patient sooner rather than later. As Nelson looked up from his chair behind the desk, Rex closed the door.

Dr. Nelson waved him toward a chair. “I’m glad you could make it on such short notice.”

Rex dropped into the seat, elbows resting on his knees, and looked squarely at Dr. Nelson. “I have a patient waiting.”

“I won’t keep you long. After the unpleasantness of the last year, the hospital’s reputation has taken a hit. The community is left with the impression the hospital doesn’t provide quality service.”

Without thinking, Rex uttered that foul oath again. Dr. Nelson’s eyes narrowed. In turn, Rex straightened in his chair. “Everything about my service is high quality. Was and will be in the future. I’ll put my skills up against any surgeon’s.”

“The question is, does the public believe that?” Nelson countered. “This is a serious situation. I’m sure you’ve noticed the downward turn in your workload.”

“Yes, but I’m still very busy.” Rex was confident people would soon forget about the long-drawn-out court case. Especially since it was no longer nightly news. Time was the secret. After all, he’d lived through scandal before and survived.

Dr. Nelson’s face sobered. He leaned forward, placing his arms on his desk and clasping his hands. Maybe there was more to this meeting than Rex had originally thought. He gave Mr. Nelson his full attention.

“Because of the situation, the board of directors has decided to bring in a public relations firm to help minimize the fallout. With the hospital accreditation committee planning a visit at the end of the month, we need to bolster public opinion as much as possible. Since you were involved in the lawsuit they want your cooperation in the matter. The idea is that if the public perception of you improves then so will the hospital’s and vice versa.”

Rex held back a frustrated groan. Nelson must be joking. There wasn’t time in his day for PR stuff. Instead of voicing his real opinion, he said, “Do you really think that’s necessary?”

“It’s not what I think but what the board has decided. However, I agree with them. I expect your full cooperation.”

Rex started to open his mouth.

Dr. Nelson raised his hand. “The board knows you’re a talented, dedicated doctor. They want to keep you but the hospital’s reputation must improve. If you plan to continue working here, I highly recommend you go along with this.”

Rex was invested in Metropolitan Hospital. With his surgical skills he could work anywhere, but that wouldn’t be enough to get him the promotions he craved and if he were to leave it was highly likely that any hospital he applied to would take a dim view of him, given the malpractice lawsuit, even though he had been legally cleared.

He’d been able to start work at Metropolitan as his own person without the worry of the negative connotations of his family name. He’d been exceptionally successful, despite being what some would call a free spirit. There had been no issues until this recent incident and he didn’t anticipate any more problems in his future. His intention was to achieve the position of departmental head in this hospital.

Now he was being pressured into unnecessary PR nonsense with no say in the matter.

Just like when he had been a teen and his family had become the subject of too much outside attention.

After his family’s fall from their high-society status, he’d vowed he would never be forced into putting on a façade to impress people. However, it seemed that that was what it was going to take if he wanted to achieve his goals in medicine. Even though experience had taught him that putting a pretty face on an ugly reality could backfire badly.

His mother and father had lived that way. The best clothes, nice cars, private school for their children, big house and membership to an exclusive country club. The problem was that they couldn’t afford it. Everything had been outward appearance and no substance. When Rex had been seventeen it had all come crashing down. His parents had been exposed and the family had gone bankrupt.

Reality was a too-small apartment on the other side of town, a ten-year-old car, cheap clothes and no more country club.

Most of Rex’s friends had turned their backs on him because they’d no longer had anything in common. What had really hurt, though, had been the girl he’d been in love with ending their relationship. When he’d been snubbed by country club snobs, she’d declared they had no future. He wasn’t enough for her. So much for love.

Rex had promised himself then that he’d never judge someone by where they lived or what they drove, neither would he ever put on pretensions of wealth and social status to impress again. He was who he was. People could like him or not. That was one of the reasons he wore a T-shirt, jeans and boots to work. He might be a well-paid physician, but his open, honest lifestyle had nothing to do with his salary, his brain or his skills in the OR. He would not tolerate pretense in his life.

Forcing his attention back to the dilemma Dr. Nelson had just created for him, he decided that during this new PR push he’d just lie low and concentrate on his patients. Refuse to get any more involved than he absolutely had to. He had nothing to prove to anyone and nothing to hide.

The moment Rex sighed, satisfied with his decision, Nelson punched a button and told his assistant to send in Ms. Romano.

* * *

Tiffani Romano waited apprehensively in the outer office of the administrator. She’d already seen Dr. Nelson but he’d asked her to wait while he spoke to Dr. Maxwell in private, then he would introduce them.

When her boss at Whitlock Public Relations had asked her into his office and explained that Metropolitan Hospital wanted to hire the firm to improve their image she had been excited that he was putting her in charge of the job. Tiffani saw this as a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to advance in the company. Success in the campaign would give her the two things she desperately wanted—a promotion that would move her to the corporate office in another city and the chance to no longer encounter Lou, her ex-boyfriend, daily.

The only glitch was that she had no respect for the medical community. She knew from personal experience that doctors were only interested in themselves and cared little about the patients whose lives they ruined instead of healed.

When she’d been a child her father had been crippled in a motorcycle accident and he had lost one leg completely and part of another, condemning him to a wheelchair. The situation had made him a very bitter man. To this day, he insisted the doctors had done nothing to save his lower limbs. With his lack of mobility had gone his desire for life—his only joy to be found at the bottom of a bottle or in the comfort of prescription drugs. These tragedies had been underscored by his sullenness, all making it impossible for him to hold down a job.

Her mother had supported her father’s vendetta. Suffering through her father’s recovery and attitude about his life, the lawsuit he’d pursued against the physicians and hospital, and having little money, she had been almost as unpleasant as her husband. She’d soon divorced Tiffani’s father and the once happy household had changed to one of permanent misery. Nothing had been the same after that fateful day.

Her father still complained about how he had been mistreated. Today he was wasting away at an assisted living home, spending more of his time in bed than out. It made Tiffani miserable to visit him and see him like that, but he was her father and she loved him.

Would Dr. Maxwell, with whom she’d have to work closely, be any different than the doctors who had destroyed her father? From what she had read and seen on the news about the malpractice case, she’d believed Maxwell guilty. Nevertheless, he’d been cleared of all charges. She wasn’t surprised. Like all physicians, she was sure he’d played God with someone’s life with no thought to what would happen to the patient afterward, or the effects on the family. Her father lived in pain daily because of hasty decisions and half-efforts his doctors had made. Though her father had survived, unlike Maxwell’s victim, his life and the lives of his family had been destroyed.

Regardless of Dr. Maxwell’s devil-may-care attitude, his surgical success rate was above average. That could be used to her advantage if she could keep him in check long enough to achieve the “you-can-trust-me” crusade she envisioned. Her intense month-long strategy was to boldly make him the face people associated with the hospital. It was an ambitious plan and she had no time for indecisiveness or uncertainty.

She would keep her opinions on the medical field to herself and convince him that it was in his best interest, and the hospital’s, to cooperate with her plans. The board expected positive results and she intended to deliver. Doing so was too important to both her career goals and her sanity.

She gripped the business satchel lying on her lap tighter. The merest hope of never again seeing Lou’s smug face fueled her determination. Unfortunately, fate had chosen Dr. Maxwell as the key to making that flickering hope her reality.

A young doctor walked past without glancing at Tiffani and sidled up to Dr. Nelson’s assistant’s desk. With a warm smile, he asked for permission to see Dr. Nelson.

Tiffani surmised the tall, tan man wearing the green scrubs with cheerfully bright headwear over long dark hair bound at the nap of his neck was her soon-to-be PR project, Dr. Maxwell. Despite her distaste for his profession she couldn’t deny that he was attractive. In fact, he might be the most interesting man she had ever seen. She couldn’t let herself be distracted by that, though, he was still a doctor.

Ten minutes later, Dr. Nelson’s assistant caught her attention and said he was ready to see her. Entering the office with confidence, Tiffani saw Dr. Nelson still seated behind his desk and the doctor in scrubs slumped in a chair with his hands in his lap. She could feel defiance radiating from him even though his expression was professionally polite.

Dr. Nelson stood, arms wide and palms up. “Come in, come in, Ms. Romano. I’d like you to meet Dr. Rex Maxwell.”

The doctor had the good manners to stand and extend his hand. His long fingers circled hers. The clasp was firm, warm. His dark brown eyes searched hers intently for a moment before he released her hand.

“Please, both of you, sit down,” Dr. Nelson said, taking his seat again.

Tiffani took the chair beside the doctor. He glanced at her before turning those sharp eyes on Dr. Nelson, who said, “I’ve explained the situation to Dr. Maxwell and he’s willing to give you his full support.”

Dr. Maxwell shifted in his seat. She glanced at him. His attention seemed focused on a small statue on the shelf behind Dr. Nelson’s desk. He didn’t look pleased.

The older man continued as if he hadn’t noticed. “Both of you are professionals. I know you’ll handle this project discreetly. With great aplomb. I expect a report in a week that I can give the board.” He paused to look at each of them. “I’m here to help and I look forward to this being a meaningful, productive and very successful project. Please, call on me if there are any issues.”

Dr. Maxwell stood, passing behind her chair on his way out. He was already in the hallway before Tiffani could gather her purse and bag. She looked at Nelson but he merely watched as she raced after the most important element to her plan. Her timetable required transforming her ideas into reality right away. That meant immediately getting better acquainted with Dr. Maxwell. He, however, was a good way down the long hall and using a stride she found difficult to match.

She called his name but he didn’t slow or even look back as he briskly continued. The rapid tap, tap, tap of her heels echoed off the walls so he had to know she was behind him. As he slowed in front of a closed elevator door she finally caught up and grabbed his arm. To her amazement, he looked surprised to see her and glanced at where her hand rested.

Tiffani released him and said breathlessly, “I’ve been trying to get your attention since we left Dr. Nelson’s office.”

“I have a patient waiting.” He pushed the button for the elevator again. The doors opened.

“We need to talk. I have plans to implement.”

He stepped into the elevator, his gaze meeting hers.

She pursed her lips, hitched her bag strap more securely on her shoulder and stepped aboard just as the door was closing.

His eyes widened. “This is a staff-only elevator.”

“Then I’ll get off when you do. Right now, I am going to talk to you.” She was determined to pin him down to a time they could meet. Timing was everything in this campaign.

He gave her a pointed look. “Ms. Romeo, I don’t have time to waste right now.”

They faced each other like two bulls in a box. She had no intention of letting this man dismiss her. Meeting his obstinate expression with one of her own, she said tightly, “It is Ms. Romano. How soon can you meet with me?”

“I don’t know how long this surgery will take. You handle things without me.”

The elevator stopped. There was a ding before the doors opened. He almost jumped in his haste to get out. Tiffani didn’t hesitate to follow. “So I’m to make the decisions and give you the details?”

He kept walking. “Works for me.”

She stayed with him, saying in a stern voice, “This project will only be successful if you play a significant part.”

They soon faced closed double doors.

Eyes locked on those doors, he removed his badge and swiped it over an ID pad as he announced, “Look, I have patients to see. I have neither the time nor the interest in being a part of your PR campaign.”

The doors opened. He went through.

She did too. “Dr. Maxwell, Dr. Nelson told me you’re willing to give this campaign your full support. Did you lie to him or was he lying to me?”

He stopped so suddenly she almost bumped into his backside. “You can’t be in here.”

“What?” She didn’t understand the abrupt change in the conversation.

“This is the surgery suite. Didn’t you read any of the signs?” he asked, as if she were a four-year-old.

“Uh, no, I didn’t.”

“Are you planning to follow me into the OR?”

“No.” She certainly had zero interest in doing that. She’d seen enough gore to last her a lifetime, having had to help care for her father. She had started cleaning and bandaging his wounds while she’d been in middle school.

“It was nice to meet you, Ms. Romano,” he said stiffly, before he turned and walked away, dismissing her.

Furious, Tiffani backtracked her way to Dr. Nelson’s office. The return trip calmed her and she sighed. Somehow, she had to gain Dr. Maxwell’s cooperation. Without Dr. Maxwell there was no successful PR crusade, no promotion and no escaping her past.

* * *

Rex had been fairly certain when he’d entered Nelson’s office that he wasn’t going to like whatever the meeting topic was, and then Nelson had caught him off guard with the stupid PR project. Rex had barely been able to conceal his disgust. He hated being forced to be part of another dog-and-pony show at this point in his life, his career. The hospital would survive the recent bad press, just as he had. All that was needed was time. That was what it had taken after the bubble had burst when he’d been a kid. He’d gotten over the lies and what he had believed about his family. He was a better man, a bluntly honest one, thanks to the experience.

No, participating in a cover-up to make everything squeaky clean was something he refused to do. Shouldn’t have to. Proving his abilities as a surgeon was unnecessary. He already knew he was good. The people he’d saved before and after Royster were proof enough.

* * *

Late that evening, with his patient doing well, he finally got back to his office. The voice mail light was blinking. Ms. Romano’s, stating she would like to meet with him first thing in the morning, was the third message. Rex harrumphed. He’d bet she had no idea that his day started at five thirty. She could figure that out on her own. He didn’t feel like dealing with her nonsense.

With her dark hair twisted tightly and her expensive-looking navy blue business suit, Ms. Romano struck him as an uptight bit of fluff. Someone trying to project an aura of authority, with her don’t-mess-with-me attitude. The only hint that she might have a softer side had been the glimpse of cleavage in the V of her white silk blouse.

Long ago he’d gotten beyond being impressed by what a person wore. Still, something about Ms. Romano’s attire made him think she was trying to make a point to the world. He wasn’t interested in being a part of her road to redemption or whatever she was after.

His allegiance lay with the free spirits of the world, those willing to live their lives without worrying about public opinion. Ms. Romano’s job alone said she cared too much about what people thought. He’d leave making the hospital look good to her and go on about his business.

* * *

The next evening it was well past dinnertime when he finally made it back to his office. Intent on grabbing his jacket, finding a hot meal and going home to bed, he opened the door and froze as he reached for his coat. Ms. Romano sat in one of his two visitors’ chairs.

She jerked upright in her seat. The file that had been in her hands fell to the floor, scattering papers everywhere.

Had she been asleep? “Ms. Romano?”

“Uh...yeah.” She pushed a loose tendril of hair back from her face. “The cleaning person was coming out when I arrived. I told him you were expecting me.”

Rex would have to speak to the housekeeping staff about letting people into his office when he wasn’t there. Obviously Ms. Romano didn’t mind doing whatever it took to get her way. Ignoring her wasn’t going to be as easy as he’d thought.

She bent and started gathering her papers. “You didn’t return my calls.”

Rex went down on his heels to help her. “I’ve been here since 2:00 a.m.”

Lowering her chin, she said, “I thought you were just dodging me.”

Guilt pricked him. Ms. Romano said what she thought. She was honest. He respected that. Continuing to pick up the fallen pages, he was adding them to the growing stack in his hand when he glanced down at one of them and saw his name. He looked at her. “Is this your research portfolio on me?”

Her dark green eyes rose to meet his. “You’re an important part of my plan. I need to know all I can about you.” She took the papers from his hands and stood.

Rex did as well, snapping, “The hospital should be the focus, not me.”

“This is about you too. I can drag you in kicking and screaming but you’re still going to be a part of the campaign.”

He took a deep breath and exhaled through his nose. “And just how do you plan to do that?”

“As I said before, Mr. Nelson assured me you would cooperate with me.” Her obstinate expression didn’t waver.

Rex detested her threat of blackmail, but he didn’t want Dr. Nelson aware of his determination to take as small a role as possible in this PR nonsense. “Look, I’ve had a long day. I’m tired and hungry. Can’t we do this later?”

“No. We’ve already lost twenty-four hours. We don’t have time to waste.”

He let out a deep sigh of disgust and sank into his desk chair. “Then let’s get on with it. I’m hungry and need some sleep.”

She apparently wasn’t in the least bit sympathetic that he’d been at the hospital for eighteen hours.

She placed the folder on his desk in front of her, opened it and sorted papers with precision.

Maybe all he’d be required to do was to listen while she talked. He had naught to contribute, except that he wanted nothing to do with this complete waste of his time and the hospital’s resources.

“I need to go over a few things with you so I can make calls first thing in the morning. We have such a small window of opportunity we’ve got to immediately start pitching ideas to the media.”

Rex watched her continue to organize her papers. At this rate, it would be a long month.

“I have some very exciting ideas I want to run by you,” she said in a swift, cheerful manner.

Rex knew better than to ask but did so anyway. “Such as?”

“I’d like to do an ‘in-your-face’ campaign. I want to show the hospital trusts you enough to make you their ambassador. Put it right up front. ‘Neither I nor the hospital was guilty of malpractice. You can trust us with all your health needs.’” She pointedly looked at him. “If you gain people’s trust then the hospital will be trusted too. It all works hand in hand. I have in mind you doing a couple of medical segments on some morning talk shows. Maybe talk about sports health. Hopefully put an article in Memphis Magazine. But time might be against us there.” She was talking fast while flipping through her portfolio. “A newspaper ad on Sundays might be very effective. People need to get to know the real you.”

The PR woman was in her zone. A sour taste formed in his mouth. She seemed to no longer be aware he sat across from her.

Any hope of not being overly involved was waning fast. He had to put the brakes on this madness. A little louder than necessary, he announced, “People who have met me do know the real me. I have nothing to hide or be ashamed of. I’m not about to rub elbows and smile ingratiatingly at the same people who were burning me at the stake a month ago.”

She kept her attention on her file, which was now tightly clenched in her fists. “Yes, you will! Not everyone trusts doctors and hospitals. To have any hope of swaying public opinion in your favor, we need to get the media on our side ASAP.”

Rex narrowed his eyes and watched her closely. “So, what’s in this for you?”

With a startled jerk, she looked directly at him. “What do you mean?”

“I know why I should be so interested in improving the hospital’s rep, and even mine, but why’re you so enthusiastic about it?”

She studied him for a moment then said with a harsh note in her tone, “Because it’s my job.”

Had he hit on something? “It seems to me you’re going beyond the call of duty to sit in my office, waiting on me for who knows how long, working overtime on just another job.”

“If I pull this off, with your help, I have a real chance at a promotion I really want. Need, in fact.”

There was her blunt honesty again.

“I see.”

“I’m pretty sure you don’t but that isn’t the issue.” She looked away. “I want to have a couple of billboards put up around town. Have people see that the hospital is here for them and that you are part of what makes it...great.” She faltered on the last word. As if she weren’t sure it was the correct one.

“Me?”

“I want you on the billboard, standing in front of a picture of the hospital. With a healthy, happy patient. You know that kind of thing.” She absentmindedly waved one hand in the air.

Rex’s insides tightened. His hunger had vanished. This was starting to sound like what his parents had done when he’d been a kid. Make their family look all perfect on the outside. He turned his head to the side and looked down his nose at her. “You want my picture on a billboard?”

“That’s right.”

He shook his head. “No.”

“We need to put you out there in front of the public. Let them know who you really are.”

Rex leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms. “I don’t think me being on a billboard is going to tell them anything.”

Her expression was stony. “Dr. Nelson thought it was a good idea.”

She was playing hardball again. Rex felt the walls closing in. He was being left no choice. If he wanted to keep his job, or any chance of becoming department head anytime soon, he would have to go along with this. But he wouldn’t make it easy. “I don’t have time for these extracurricular activities. My surgical practice and responsibilities to my patients monopolize my time.”

“We’ll work around your schedule.”

His refusal, his objection hadn’t even slowed her down.

She studied him a moment. “One more thing. We need to work on your image.”

His gut tightened. This was getting worse by the minute. “What’s wrong with my image? My appearance is part of my identity.”

After looking him over for a moment, she answered in a quiet but steely voice, “You have a bad-boy image. One that has to be softened up a little bit.”

“And just how do you plan to do that?”

“A haircut here, some clothes there.”

This was going too far. “Not going to happen. I don’t do makeovers. You can talk to Nelson all you want but that’s stepping over the line.”

She slipped the now organized papers into her folder. “After this campaign, you can go back to your slouchy, unkempt look, but you will look sharp and reliable for the media. You think about it. From what I understand, this is all sanctioned by the board. I’m not telling you your business but can you really afford to go against them?”

He hated this. Everything about it brought back memories he’d thought he had gotten beyond. “Again, where do I find time for this makeover to happen?”

“Don’t you have a day off?” She sounded as if it wasn’t a big deal for him to get away.

Yeah, but not one he wanted to spend her way. “Tomorrow, in fact.”

“Perfect. I’ll make an appointment with my hairdresser for tomorrow afternoon. First we’ll do a little shopping. So, I’ll be on my way. Goodnight.” She stood, put her bag over her shoulder and turned toward the door.

“Hey, wait a minute. You don’t need to be going to your car alone at this time of night.” Rex picked up his jacket.

She had stopped and was looking back at him. “I’ll be fine. I’m in the main parking lot up front.”

“I’m still going to walk you out.”

She shrugged and walked away. He followed. They said nothing to each other as they went down in the elevator and stepped out into the parking lot. The silence wasn’t so much uncomfortable as it was mutual.

“This is it,” she said when they reached a white compact car. With a click, she unlocked it with her fob. “Why don’t you get in? I’ll take you to your car.”

Rex wavered a moment, fearing that if he managed to get his long body in he might not be able to get it out. “My bike is in the back. I don’t mind walking.”

“You ride a motorcycle?” The unusual high note in her voice irritated him.

“Yes. You mean that wasn’t in your notes?”

Her perplexed demeanor was almost comical. Had she really thought that everything there was to know about him was in black and white in her folder? “Actually, it wasn’t, but it should have been.”

He was tired of being under the microscope. First the malpractice suit and now this. He liked his motorcycle. Liked the freedom. The lack of restriction. The fact that he was snubbing people like the ones in his past social circle made it even more fun. “Is me riding a bike a problem?”

“It could be,” she said, as if pondering the issue, climbing in and closing her car door, leaving him with the unfortunate feeling he had just become the dog in her dog-and-pony show.

CHAPTER TWO

WHERE IS HE? Tiffani asked herself more than once as she paced in front of the men’s store in downtown Memphis. She had texted Rex the address and the time earlier that morning. He’d sent a terse response.

I’ll be there when I can.

She hadn’t heard another word from him since and his scheduled appointment time with her hairdresser was growing ever closer. Moreover, her father was expecting her later this afternoon. He’d worry if she was late. Rex needed to hurry.

It wouldn’t have surprised her, though, if Rex was keeping her waiting on purpose. Wasn’t that what doctors did? Made people wait? It proved what she thought about them must be true—little worry for how they affected others—and so Rex not being courteous enough to tell her he’d be late shouldn’t have astonished her.

Fuming over her assumption that he’d show up at the time she’d told him, her hopes rose at the roar of a motorcycle. Was that him?

He’d made it clear he didn’t like any of her ideas, but she wasn’t sure he understood the big picture. He kept insisting he wanted nothing to do with the effort to improve the hospital’s reputation. Then he’d flat out balked at her insistence he needed a makeover. Something deep was behind his protests and stubbornness. What had he said about his appearance? He’d said it was part of his identity.

She watched the motorcycle rider pull into a parking spot not far from hers. He wore a plain black T-shirt, worn jeans with a hole in one knee and black ankle-high boots. When he pulled his helmet off, dark hair fell around his broad shoulders. Rex was impressive in a wild sort of way. She almost regretted insisting his hair be cut. Somehow it made him more fascinating. Her opinion, though, didn’t matter. What mattered was his image in the eyes of the residents of this city if her plans were to succeed.

Her gaze met his.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

Had she been staring? She went on the defensive. “I expected you here thirty minutes ago. Maybe your patients understand you not showing up on time but I don’t.”

Climbing off his bike, tucking his helmet under his arm, he stepped into her personal space, claiming all the air around her. She could hardly breathe, let alone hear him quietly inform her, “Something came up at the last minute but I’m here now.”

Tiffani took two steps back and inhaled. “You could’ve at least texted me.”

“I didn’t have a chance. Sorry. My patient was having difficulty breathing. I didn’t have time to message you before I started operating, repairing her lung. Afterward I was too busy rushing here to text you.”

She’d firmly been put in her place. Somehow sorry didn’t cover it but she said it anyway.

“Now that I’m here, let’s get this over with.” With a grim look on his face he looked at the storefronts.

“The manager is waiting for us.” She led the way to the specialty men’s shop.

“I still don’t understand why all of this is necessary.” He followed close behind her.

Over her shoulder she replied, “That biker gang look might work just fine in your everyday life but in my world a more professional appearance is called for.”

“What if I want nothing to do with your world?” Stepping ahead of her, he opened the door.

His manners couldn’t be faulted. At least that area needed no work. As she passed him she retorted, “Right now, you have no choice.”

He said softly, “We’ll see about that.”

The middle-aged store manager greeted them and directed them to a row of suits.

“I’d rather not.” Rex shook his head. “If I must dress up, I’d prefer jackets and jeans.”

“You need a suit. I have a TV interview set up for next week.” The opportunity to show Rex as qualified and trustworthy was too good to pass up.

“No suit. It’s non-negotiable.” The firmness in his tone stated he meant every word.

“You don’t make the rules here.”

“I do about what I wear,” he shot back. “I won’t be dressed up and paraded around like a preening bird. Complain to Nelson if you like.”

She took a deep but discreet breath, counting to three before she said in her most soothing tone, “We’ll try it your way, but I get the final say. If I don’t like the look you choose then you may have to try on a suit.”

“Won’t happen.” He turned back to the manager and started pointing at jackets. “I’ll try that one, that one and that one.” Moving to a wall with cubby holes filled with stacked shirts, he pulled out several. “Here,” he said, piling them in her arms. Moving to a rack of pants, he sorted through them until he had chosen a handful. The manager took the pants from Rex, who all but growled, “Where’s the dressing room?”

“This way, sir,” the older man said, appearing perplexed.

“Just call me Rex.”

The man nodded and led the way to the back of the store.

Tiffani followed, feeling a little dazed. Rex had taken over. She needed to regain control but was unsure how to do it.

Rex dropped his helmet on top of the last display table before the dressing stall. Immediately he pulled his shirt over his head.

Tiffani was given a spectacular view of his back muscles shifting under bronzed skin. That expanse of pure masculinity tapered down to a trim waist.

Her step faltered.

Surely it was from the shock of him stripping so freely. Not from the delicious view she’d been given. She should want nothing to do with men, doctors in particular, but she wasn’t immune to a good-looking male. Rex Maxwell had a very fine body to go with his handsome face. If he affected her this acutely, surely other women would also be attracted to him. Smiling to herself, she nodded. Tiffani would use his raw virility to her advantage during the campaign.

“Hand me the shirts and pants first. I’ll try the jackets on last,” he said from behind a wooden door that stopped a couple of feet from the floor. She watched with a skip of a heartbeat as his jeans puddled around his feet.

The manager hurried to give him the pants. Rex opened the door far enough to take them. Seconds later he opened it again and stuck out a hand. “Shirts?”

The manager moved out of Tiffani’s way so she could hand him her armload of shirts. She did her best to keep her eyes off the almost naked man before her. When Rex chuckled softly, she instinctively met his gaze. The twinkle in his smoldering eyes made her discomfort intensify. He was playing with her. But she had endured enough cat-and-mouse games for a lifetime.

She quickly turned but not before her downward glance had registered his navy sport briefs barely concealing his manhood. Trying to hide her sexual attraction, she said in as flat a voice as she could muster, “Let me see you when you’re dressed.”

Minutes later he came out wearing a light blue shirt and navy pants. The manager held up a tan jacket. Rex slipped it on with a grace Tiffani couldn’t ignore. He’d been toying with her earlier. Had known he was embarrassing her. Yet here she was, ogling him again. Whatever was going on with her body had to stop. He was a client and one she was determined not to like or trust. All doctors were self-centered and so far Rex Maxwell hadn’t proved himself any different.

He put his arms out and slowly turned around. “What do you think? Will I do?”

She studied him intently, hoping to find a flaw. There wasn’t one. So she promptly ordered, “Let’s see the others.”

“No. You can choose what you like out of my selection. I’m done here.” He shrugged off the jacket.

She stepped in front of him, ignoring the garment he held out. “You need to try them all on. I want to make sure they create the right image.”

He took the stance of a man in a gunfight, letting the jacket sweep the floor when he lowered his arm. His stare was hard. “They’re all the same size, just different colors. Mix and match ’em. I’ve done all the fashion-show stuff I’m going to do. Period.”

Everything about him warned she shouldn’t push any further. So she looked down at his boots. “Okay. Now for shoes.”

Rex lifted a foot, moving it one way then another. “What? You don’t think these go with everything?”

Relieved his mood had mellowed, she retorted, “I think traditional footwear would be more appropriate. The boots work for your motorcycle but I don’t think they’re the best choice for TV interviews or social situations.”

“Social situations? What social situations am I going to be in?”

She could feel the appalled aura envelop him.

“The hospital is planning a small cocktail party and dinner for the accreditation committee. It’ll be a great opportunity for you to talk to influential members of the community, while impressing the committee. Let them get to know you.” She smiled, hoping to encourage him.

His jaw tensed. “I won’t be attending. That isn’t my thing.”

Time to try coaxing. “Sure you will. You’ll be the face of the hospital by then. The surgeon everyone wants.”

“If that happens it’ll be because I’m a great surgeon, which by the way I am, and not because you dressed me up and paraded me around.” He headed toward the dressing room.

She called to his back, “It’ll be good for you and the hospital.”

Rex turned and confronted her. “I have no interest in being linked to the hospital forever. I’ve agreed to help because Dr. Nelson strongly encouraged it, but with this I draw the line. I don’t do social.”

“Your social appearance might mean getting top marks from the accreditation committee. You know they’re overly conscious of the malpractice case. We’re trying to rebuild some public goodwill as well.” She couldn’t back down on this. It was the cornerstone of her plan.

“Do you really believe changing my wardrobe and showing me off to people who value appearance over substance is going to make that much difference?” There was a snide tone to his words.

She fervently hoped so. This project was her ticket out of town and away from Lou. “I make a living seeing that it does.”

He leaned close and looked her directly in the eyes. “Don’t you think honest people see beyond all your publicity? I know I’m more interested when I get to know the real person, not the one putting on shiny shoes and a smile, trying to be someone they’re not.”

Stepping closer and lowering her voice, she hissed, “You need the shiny shoes and smile so people will want to take the time to get to know you. Do you think black T-shirts, holey jeans and biking boots exude medical professionalism? It’s important the community has confidence in you. Believes they’ll get the quality of care they expect.”

Surprise and then something she wasn’t sure she could name flickered in the depths of his eyes. He said, just as quietly, “Their quality of care hasn’t changed. Mine or the hospital’s. Just because a family wouldn’t accept I couldn’t save their father’s life doesn’t mean my skills are any less competent or professional than they were before the malpractice suit.”

Tiffani flinched. This conversation was treading too close to the personal. She had promised herself that she would see this job through without letting what had happened to her father intrude. The only way to do that was to go on the defensive. “Just what is your issue? After all, you’re getting a new wardrobe at the hospital’s expense and you’re an intelligent man, so you know how important what I’m trying to achieve is. Why all the pushback?”

“Like I can’t afford my own shoes and my own clothes,” he spat. “Clothes I have no interest in wearing.”

“I still don’t understand the problem. It looks to me like you’d want to help.” Why couldn’t he just not fight her on this?

“The problem is, I’m not going to pretend to be somebody else.” He dropped the jacket on a stack of causal shirts and gestured toward the clothes she and the manager still held. “I’m a skilled surgeon, regardless of what I wear. I don’t care who is or isn’t impressed by my appearance.”

She believed him. He was his own man and he was brutally honest. Unlike virtually all the people around her. She had to admire that about him.

After Lou’s lies she appreciated the honesty. She was glad that, with Rex, she was certain she wouldn’t misread his feelings. He would make them clear. In an odd way, it was refreshing.

But his stubborn insistence that his appearance ought not matter to people would be the ruin of her campaign if she couldn’t make him see reality. With his biker appearance came negative connotations, no matter what type of person he really was. With secret desperation she coolly asked, “If you won’t present the image the public has of a gifted, confident, trustworthy surgeon, just how do you expect to convince them you really are gifted, confident or trustworthy?”

He gave her a seething glare. “And you think this dog-and-pony show you have planned will do that?”

Tiffani raised her chin and shrugged with all the indifference she could muster, sensing victory. “It’s done all the time.”

Rex seemed at a loss for words. Abruptly she was aware of the manager’s intense interest in their disagreement. What was going on between her and Rex wasn’t good PR. Taking a cleansing breath, she tried to appease Rex into compromising. “It’s just for a little while. I’ll try to make it as easy as possible.”

“I don’t care how long it is. I won’t pretend to be somebody I’m not. Ever again.”

Again? So there was something in his past driving his illogical refusal to admit she was right. “Then I’ll make an effort not to ask you to. Agreed?”

Juggling her armload of clothes, she extended her hand. He looked at it for a moment then took it. Inexplicably, a shiver went up her spine at his touch. She pulled her hand free.

“Agreed.” His voice was calm and sincere.

She smiled. He was going to try to meet her halfway. Tiffani made her tone appeasing. “Now, I know you don’t want to hear this but it’s time we get to your hair appointment.”

His lips puckered and jaw tightened. Was another fight coming?

To her surprise, he finger-combed his hair back from his face and said, “Okay. But only because I’m due for a trim.” He picked up the jacket and returned to the dressing room.

Relief washed through her. The tightness between her shoulder blades eased. A least he was going to go along with her plans regarding his hair. Trim? She needed him to have more than that. She’d let Estell handle making that happen.

While waiting for Rex, she made arrangements with the manager to pick up the purchases later. As they left the store she announced, “The shop isn’t far from here. Should we walk?”

“Do you think biker boots will be okay for that?” he asked with a smug smile, tucking his helmet under his arm.

She glared. “Yes, but I don’t think they’re suitable for every occasion. The hairdresser is this way.”

* * *

Rex, although familiar with this area of Memphis, had spent little time there. As he examined the small businesses with cute storefronts he noted many of the other people on the street were fashionably dressed and clearly wealthy. It all reminded him too much of his childhood where nothing had mattered but where you shopped and what brand you could afford.

The boutiques lining the street looked just like the ones his mother used to frequent. But then the terrible truth had come out.

At least now he didn’t care what he wore as long as it was comfortable. He’d spent half his life going in one direction and the other half hell-bent on another. No way was he returning to the old lifestyle his parents had pretended they could afford. He had no reason to prove himself to anyone through his appearance, zero interest in outside trappings. He knew with bone-deep certainty who he was and for the rest of his life there would be no more pretentious facades.

Still, damn it, he had agreed to help with Tiffani’s PR nonsense. His plans for his future actually rested on it to a certain degree. If a few wardrobe changes and a haircut could gain him what he wanted, then was it such a big deal?

Yes! It was a very big deal. He had set his boundaries all those years ago for very real, vital reasons and had successfully, happily lived by them ever since. He had no intention of ignoring them now. Not for Tiffani. Not for anyone. Nor for any reason, regardless of its appeal.

But walking down the street on a sunny day with a pretty woman beside him somehow made all the ridiculousness of this makeover less disturbing to his peace of mind. He glanced at Tiffani. She still wore her hair up but not quite as tightly as before. Her attire was more casual as well. A simple purple knit shirt, black pants and flat shoes unleashed her subtle sex appeal, which floated around her like honeyed perfume.

He didn’t care for her high-handed ways and wasn’t even sure he liked her, but it was a nice change to argue with someone who gave as good as she got. Few people in his life dared to talk back to him. He’d found his disagreements with Tiffani invigorating, something he’d experienced rarely with a woman. The women he tended to date were only interested in a good time or were in awe of what he did for a living. There was no challenge. Tiffani was definitely that. She wasn’t impressed by his looks and certainly not by his position.

They stopped in front of a store with flowers painted on the windows and a sign above the door that read Cute Cuts. He felt his eyes involuntarily roll in disbelief. Maybe he should have ridden his bike and parked it out front. Letting out a low groan, he informed her, “I’m going to have to give up my man card if I go in here.”

“It won’t be all that bad. I promise.” A bell tinkled as she pushed the door open. “Come on in, be brave.”

Rex didn’t miss the humor in her voice. “It’s not courage I lack but desire.”

A woman with short, spiked green hair tipped in red looked away from the client she was working on and said to Tiffani, “Hey, girl, I’m almost done here. I’ll be right with you.”

Rex gave Tiffani a speculative look. She shrugged in response. What had he gotten himself into? This place looked nothing like his barbershop. Instead of a group of balding men sitting in the back, talking and playing checkers, there was a rock station blaring on the sound system and an over-the-head hair dryer going.

The only place to sit in the tiny place was a wicker settee with floral printed cushions.

Tiffani settled on it. Unsure if the wicker was strong enough to hold them both or if he wanted to sit so close to her, he chose to stand.

“She’ll be done in a sec, I’m sure,” Tiffani offered. “Estell’s the best in town.”

Rex nodded, but really didn’t care. He just hoped one of his male colleagues didn’t see him leave the place. The jokes would never end. Had Tiffani been polite enough to ask, he’d have preferred to have gone to his regular guy. Rex’s urge to leave grew. Too much of his day off had already been wasted.

Soon the customer was gushing over her new look and leaving.

“I’m ready,” Estell called.

He approached her with a tentative smile.

“Well, hello, handsome. What can I do for you today?” Estell purred, low and throaty.

Rex chuckled, liking the “out there” woman. It surprised him that Tiffani used her as her hairdresser. Estell seemed too eccentric to appeal. Tiffani acted so closed off and all business. Was there another side of her he’d not seen?

While he pondered her, Tiffani said, “Estell, I was thinking cut it above the ears. A little longer on the top—”

“I can handle this,” Rex stated in his “surgeon-in-OR” voice that tolerated no argument. “Why don’t you go get us some drinks? We’re good, aren’t we, Estell?”

Grinning, she nodded. “Yeah, Tiffani, we’re good.”

“I need him to look professional, clean cut.” Tiffani looked concerned, almost as if she was unsure they could be trusted to be left alone.

“Will do,” Estell said, and returned to her cutting chair.

Rex pulled from his pocket a few bills and handed them to Tiffani. “I’d like a soda. Get yourself one too. How about you, Estell?”

She grinned. “Sure.”

“Make that three,” he added.

Tiffani stood immobile, looking rather bewildered.

He winked. “Take your time. Estell and I might be busy a while.”

Estell snickered. Tiffani’s eyes narrowed. She muttered as she left, “I don’t know about this.”

Estell had just finished with his hair when Tiffani returned. With the turn of the chair he faced her as she crossed the threshold. She stopped short, gaping. Heat simmered through Rex. He knew well the pleasure of a woman’s admiration, but he’d never experienced one devouring him with her eyes. He shifted uncomfortably as hot blood-hardened parts made themselves known.

“So, what do you think?” Estell asked from behind him.

Tiffani blinked, appearing to struggle back to the here and now. “Uh, I wanted it...much shorter.”

“I didn’t,” Rex announced, his gaze still locked with hers as he slipped out of the chair.

A long second later she fluttered her eyelids. “Okay.”

He took the plastic bag she held. Checking its contents, he pulled out a soda and tossed it to Estell, who caught it neatly. He handed Tiffani one before withdrawing and opening his.

As if coming out of a daze, Tiffani straightened her back and glared at him. “You had me go buy these to get rid of me.”

Shrugging his shoulders Rex set his drink down and pulled his wallet out. He paid Estell, giving her a generous tip along with a kiss on her cheek. With a wink, he said in a confidential tone Tiffani could hear, “You know what’s said at the beauty parlor stays at the beauty parlor.”

Tiffani snorted behind him.

Estell giggled and replied, grinning, “I had fun too. Nice to meet you, Rex.”

“I’ll wait for you outside,” he told Tiffani as he stepped around her.

* * *

Tiffani wasn’t sure what had just happened. She rarely ogled men, especially not one who was her client. Or one she considered egotistically self-absorbed, not to mention argumentative. Yet she’d been literally unable to take her eyes off Rex when she’d reentered the beauty shop. He was gorgeous. All virile male at ease in a den of feminine décor. Confidence oozed from him. To make matters worse, like an idiot she hadn’t been able to put two words together.

Estell had taken a few inches off his hair and tamed it around his face so that it complemented his rugged features. It looked healthy and free, just like he was. Tiffani had never been a big fan of men with long hair, but Rex was a definite exception. Her first instinct had been to touch it, to caress his scalp and let the strands flow through her fingers. A totally inappropriate impulse for a professional such as herself.

The worst thing about those first agonizing moments had been his obvious relish of the effect he was having on her. Enjoying it. She mustn’t allow that to happen again. She had to remain in control of the situation, and herself, at all times around him. That was the plan.

“Honey.” Estell shook her head as if thinking, Yum, yum, yum. “You’ve got a real man on your hands. I hope you can handle him.”

“He’s not my man. We’re business associates.” Tiffani almost snapped, wincing at the edge of defiance she heard in her voice. She wasn’t interested in a relationship. And certainly not with someone like Rex Maxwell. Her breakup with Lou had guaranteed she’d think long and hard about allowing herself to become intimately involved with another man. Besides which she didn’t need one. Heartache was all the opposite sex offered.

“Well, if it was me, I’d sure figure out a way to make him mine,” Estell said as she opened her drink.

Rex was standing by a light pole when Tiffani joined him outside. Virtually every female walking by gave him a second look. Obviously, Tiffani’s reaction to the new Rex wasn’t unique. His image on the billboards would certainly captivate most women. An ambassador who was a handsome surgeon with sex appeal practically assured a positive rise in the hospital’s reputation. She was tickled. The campaign was fast becoming far more effective than she’d first hoped. The only thing that might ruin it was Rex inexplicably fighting her every step of the way.

He shifted impatiently from one foot to another. “Is there a café or something around here?”

“Yes, there’s one just around the corner.” She pointed up the sidewalk.

“Would you like to join me?” Rex asked.

“I guess so.” Tiffani didn’t make a habit of socializing with clients but she couldn’t think of a good excuse not to. She was hungry and had time for a quick meal before she had to leave to see her father. Plus, she had one more thing she needed to discuss with Rex. He’d be more receptive to it if he heard her proposal with a full stomach.

He fell into step beside her. “The women I dine with usually sound more eager to share my company.”

“This isn’t a date,” Tiffani retorted, a little more stiffly than intended. “And I only have time for something quick.” She felt his dark eyes on her.

“You have a problem with dating?”

“No,” she said slowly. “And you are my client.”

He stopped. She did too and looked back at him. People walked around them. He said, as if choosing his words carefully, “And if I wasn’t your client? How would you feel?”

“I don’t do business and pleasure in the same place.” She’d more than learned her lesson there.

“That was a loaded statement. Care to elaborate?”

“I do not. It’s too long and too ugly a story.” And too humiliating to repeat. Especially to a man who probably never had a female turn him down. “And it has nothing to do with us. The PR campaign, I mean.”

“They say talking it out with someone makes it better.” He continued along the sidewalk.

She couldn’t believe his arrogance. Did he really think confiding in him was going to make anything better? He was a doctor. One she didn’t trust. And definitely not a confidant she’d trust her embarrassment to.

“I know you’re very sure of your bedside manner but do you really believe I’d spill my life story to you?”

“Not really. But it sounds like it might be interesting.”

She looked at her reflection in the glass front of the restaurant. “You should save your charm for the TV interviews.”

“Now you’re trying to ruin my meal.” He opened the door to the small sixties retro café.

They were shown to a table for two in the middle of the dining room and handed menus. After studying the menu, Rex asked, “Anything you can recommend?”

“I’ve only been here a couple of times. The pork chop and potatoes or the spaghetti is good.”

He nodded sagely. The waitress took their drink orders on her way to another table. After a moment he questioned, “Have you decided?”

In principle, sharing social time with a client wasn’t a good idea, but the raw truth was that being seen with a good-looking man gave a much-needed boost to Tiffani’s damaged ego. Being told you’re not wanted by someone she’d thought had loved her had been devastating. After that catastrophe, having any male attention was like a much-needed salve.

Against her better judgment, her mind started to chew over her past love life. Learning Lou didn’t return her love had nearly destroyed her. To make matters worse, he’d made a show of announcing to their coworkers that he wanted nothing more to do with her. Had arrogantly declared he was now available during an office meeting. Tiffani had wanted to melt under the table. She’d never been more mortified. In her despair, she’d vowed never again to share herself completely with a man. All the males in her life had always wanted more from her than they had ever been willing to give in return.

The waitress returned with their drinks and took their orders. Tiffani settled on a salad and Rex asked for a pasta dish. With that done, Tiffani said, “I wanted to let you know that I have a photographer coming tomorrow to take pictures of you.”

“I have surgeries planned.”

“I know. I got your schedule from Dr. Nelson. We’ll work around it. The photographer will be at the hospital to take pictures so he can shoot you between your cases.”

Rex thumped his fork on the table. “You have to be kidding.”

The noise accompanying his disbelieving tone startled her. If she showed weakness now, she feared all would be lost. “Dr. Nelson said we could use a conference room to take formal portrait shots of you.”

“You’ve got it all worked out, haven’t you?”

She could tell by the way he clenched his jaw that he was holding back what he would like to say. “It’s my job.”

“I don’t think much of it.” His words were heavy with contempt.

She looked him straight in the eyes. “The feeling is mutual.”

“How’s that?” He looked confused.

“It doesn’t matter. We don’t have to like each other, or each other’s professions. We just have to work together long enough to repair the hospital’s public reputation.”

Crossing his arms on the table, Rex leaned toward her. “You expect me to accept that cryptic explanation?”

“You don’t get a choice.” She took a swallow of her drink and let the ensuing silence between them speak for itself. Thankfully the waitress brought their food in short order. They said little as they ate.

“Someone, help!” cried a woman on the other side of the room. “She’s choking.”

Tiffani’s eyes jerked in the direction of the desperate plea. Even as she did so, Rex shoved his chair back and hurried to the distressed woman, who was beating a child’s back, dodging tables as he went. Tiffani followed.

“I’m a doctor. Let me have her,” Rex commanded with unquestionable authority.

The woman stopped her movement in midair and handed the gasping child to him.

Rex took the girl’s arm and turned her round, pressing her back against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, clasping his fists together and positioning them under her ribs before giving her a tight squeeze.

Nothing happened. The girl’s lips were turning bluer.

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