Priceless(4)

“Dr. Browning?” he inquired in an incredulous tone that suggested he’d been expecting someone older and definitely someone male.

Despite the unspoken but definitely implied insult, his quiet, smooth voice eased through Beth, then delivered a belated punch. She tried to gather her wits and to form the apology he deserved, but the words wouldn’t come. She’d never have deliberately insulted him to his face, even if she did have an abundance of scorn for men who wasted money on athletic pursuits that could be better spent on saving mankind.

“She’ll be with you as soon as she gets her foot out of her mouth,” Jason said, breaking the tension.

Grateful to the radiologist for helping her out, she managed to stand and offer her hand. “Mr. Carlton, I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Obviously,” he said, his lips curving into a slow smile. “My aunt said you’d had trouble contacting me. My staff shouldn’t have put you off. I apologize for that.”

Beth had read that he was a heartbreaker. Now she knew why. If his gaze could render her speechless, that smile could set her on fire. Add in the unexpected touch of humility and the sincerity of his apology, and her first impression was pretty much smashed to bits. She’d never experienced a reaction to any man quite like this. She wasn’t sure she liked it.

“Would you…?” Exasperated by her inability to gather her thoughts, she swallowed hard, took a deep breath, then tried again. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

“Actually I’m on a tight schedule. I found myself near here and wanted to let you know that I haven’t been deliberately blowing off your calls. I thought I’d take a chance that now would be a good time to meet Tony.”

“Of course,” she said at once, knowing what such a visit would mean even if regular visiting hours were later in the day. This was one instance when she didn’t mind breaking the rules. “I’ll take you to his room. He’ll be thrilled.”

Jason cleared his throat. At his pointed look, Beth realized that her colleagues were hoping for an introduction to the local football legend. Amazed that grown men could be as enamored of Mack Carlton as her twelve-year-old patient was, she paused and made the introductions.

When it seemed that the doctors were about to go over every great play the man had ever made on the football field, she cut them off.

“As much as you guys would probably like to discuss football for the rest of the day, Mr. Carlton is here to see Tony,” she reminded them a bit curtly.

Mack Carlton gave her another of those smiles that could melt the polar ice cap. “Besides,” he said, “we’re probably boring Dr. Browning to tears.”

Now there was a loaded statement if ever she’d heard one. She didn’t dare admit to being bored and risk insulting him more than she had when he’d first arrived and overheard her. Nor was she inclined to lie. Instead she forced a smile. “You did say you had a tight schedule.”

His grin spread. “So I did. Lead the way, Doctor.”

Relieved to have something concrete to do, she set off briskly through the corridors to the unit where twelve-year-old Tony had spent far too much of his young life.

“Tell me about Tony,” Mack suggested as they walked.

“He’s twelve and he has leukemia,” Beth told him, fighting to keep any trace of emotion from her voice. It was the kind of story she hated to tell, especially when the battle wasn’t being won. “It’s the third time it’s come back. This time he’s not responding so well to the chemotherapy. We’d hoped to get him ready for a bone marrow transplant, but we don’t have the right donor marrow, and because of his difficulty with the chemo, I’m not so sure it would be feasible for him right now anyway.”

Mack listened intently to everything she was saying. “His prognosis?”

“Not good,” she said tersely.

“And you’re taking it personally,” he said quietly.

Beth promptly shook her head. “I know I can’t win every battle,” she said, as she had to the psychologist who’d expressed his concern about her state of mind earlier in the day. Few people knew just how personally she took a case like Tony’s. She was surprised that Mack Carlton had guessed it so easily.

“But you hate losing,” Mack said.

“When it’s a matter of life and death, of course I do,” she said fiercely. “I went into medicine to save lives.”

“Why?” Before she could reply, he added, “I know it’s a noble profession, but dealing with sick kids has to be an emotional killer. Why you? Why this field?”