“Oh,” the woman blanched and she pushed a heavy-framed pair of glasses up the bridge of her nose. “What if something else happens? I won’t know how to take care of him.”
“If it’s a problem, we can have a home health agency come out and dress his chest wounds and the surgical site on his leg. But, honestly, he should be fine as long as he doesn’t overdo it.”
The woman’s relief was evident.
“But the first thing we have to do is get you through today.” Riley placed his stethoscope on the man’s chest, moving the diaphragm from spot to spot to listen to the man’s heart sounds.
“Can you tell if the bypass is taking, based on what you hear?” the man asked, looking concerned. “I keep wondering what I’d do if my heart rejected the graft.”
“That’s unlikely to happen as it’s your own tissue. But no worries, we’ll take another look at the blood flow via an echocardiogram to make sure everything is working properly. You’re in good hands.”
Trinity wouldn’t argue with Riley’s claim. He did have good hands. Expert hands that worked magic with hearts.
Which, of course, made her wonder about what those hands were going to do to her heart.
Or should she even worry about that since Chase had tattered it to shreds and despite her move she knew there were only broken pieces where once a strong heart used to beat?
Maybe she was immune to Riley hurting her because she didn’t have a heart left to be broken.
Somehow she doubted that because already she knew she’d miss him terribly if he left her life.
That scared her more than she cared to admit. Maybe she should run while she still could.
Only could she, even if she wanted to?
CHAPTER SIX
“THIS ISN’T DINNER,” Trinity pointed out when Riley pulled into the crowded mall parking lot that evening. Although he looked handsome in khakis and a polo and was in way too good a mood to have worked all day, she was still in her scrubs, hungry, tired and really didn’t want to fight the crowds. She’d told him she’d have dinner with him, so dinner they would have.
Somehow she hadn’t envisioned him taking her to a shopping center for a slice of pizza or Chinese. Then again, she knew next to nothing about his eating habits and they had eaten sandwiches the night before.
“True,” Riley admitted, not looking one bit guilty as he parked the car in a just-vacated parking spot.
One more thing to not like about Christmas. Everywhere was packed. Parking lots, shops, streets. It was as if every person came out of hibernation and crowded every public place, searching for that great deal on the perfect gift that they’d spend money they didn’t really have to spend. Trinity would much rather be at home with a good book and Casper curled up in her lap than dealing with all the holiday hoopla.
Her car door opened and she glanced up at the man waiting for her to get out of the car. Really? She’d rather be with her cat than with this gorgeous man?
Okay, so not really. But hanging with Casper would be a lot easier on her emotions in the long run.
Please, don’t hurt me, she silently pleaded. All day she’d questioned why he’d taken an interest in her when there were so many women out there who would gladly kiss his rear end and had to be more suitable than her. She was just Trinity Warren from the wrong side of the tracks, so to speak. He was a cardiac surgeon who’d obviously led a privileged life. They couldn’t be more different.
“Come on, princess.” A big smile on his face, he motioned for her to get out of the car. “We’re just going to do a little shopping before we eat.”
What? He wanted her to go in there and face the shopping frenzy? Had he lost his mind?
“I don’t think so. You didn’t mention anything about shopping.”
“Didn’t I?” He pretended to look repentant. “Must have slipped my mind.” He took her hand and laced their fingers together. “No worries, princess. I promise to feed you, too.”
As if skipping a meal or two would hurt her.
Still, the last thing she wanted was to go into a mall all decked out with Christmas decorations and sales. Maybe she really was a Scrooge.
“I don’t like shopping.” Had she sounded petulant? It hadn’t been her intent, but she felt like digging her heels in and refusing to budge. Seriously, the man did not have to have his way on everything.
“Every woman likes to shop.”
She snorted. How stereotypically male!
“Shows how much you know about women,” she countered, chin high at his arrogant comment.
He stopped walking and gawked at her. “How can you not like shopping? Especially at this time of year? Every store is a smorgasbord of treats just waiting to make someone happy.”