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After that night he didn’t see her again. Not even at the party her parents threw the next day. She just vanished without saying goodbye. It stung, but it was for the best. He couldn’t offer her anything, although he never forgot her.
He hadn’t seen her in so long.
When he’d learned she was a senior surgeon in the ER at Manhattan Mercy, he’d been shocked. He had been naive to think that the years apart would have calmed his reaction to her. After the horrors of war, he had been certain that she’d have no effect.
He’d been wrong.
So wrong. There was a fire in her, a drive he admired, but she was still off limits. Every woman was. He didn’t want a relationship ever. He’d come home to make amends with his family, but that was it. His stance on marriage hadn’t changed.
Zac stood up and pulled off his white lab coat, tossing it on the bed.
“What’re you doing?” Ella asked.
“Push-ups,” he muttered as he dropped to the floor and began to do push-ups. Exercise and hard work was how he forced his nightmares away. It’s also how he dealt with sexual frustration.
Despite the friction between them at work, when he’d seen Ella at Charles’s wedding, he’d wanted to kiss her again. To take it further, like he’d wanted to do before he’d left.
But she’d blown him off.
She’d avoided him since he’d arrived and he didn’t know why. It had frustrated him. Just like having a breakdown in front of her had.
Most of his family didn’t even know about his PTSD, and he certainly didn’t want Ella Lockwood to know about it.
He had to put it out of his mind. Talking about what had happened wouldn’t do him any good.
“I’ll call for a janitor.” She pulled out her cellphone.
He stopped his push-ups and sat on the floor. “You have the janitor’s number on your cell?”
“There are messes in the ER that sometimes need a janitor’s touch stat,” she said as she pushed the contact on her phone.
Zac rolled his eyes. “Of course, what was I thinking?”
Ella shook her head. “Hello? It’s Dr. Lockwood. Dr. Davenport and I are stuck in an on-call room in the ER. On-call room four at the end of the hall. The doorknob came off. Right. Okay, but...yeah. Okay.” She ended the call.
“Well?”
“They’re trying to get the power back on. The new generators failed and it’s imperative they get the power back on before the battery backups on critical machines fail.”
“Of course.” He understood, but he really didn’t want to start off his shift like this. It was bad enough that he hardly ever slept anyway, but sitting still in a locked room with Ella would exhaust him more.
When he was busy he was able to chase away the demons from his tour of duty and keep the exhaustion at bay. The only thing that calmed him down was saving lives. In the operating room he was in control of everything.
Here he had no control.
Ella sank down on the bed. “At least there are very capable residents on the trauma floor in case something happens. I hate it when the ER is quiet.”
Zac nodded. “I’m sure you’ve trained them well.”
“Merry Christmas,” she said, then chuckled half-heartedly.
“Yeah, for sure.”
“I’m surprised you’re on rotation tonight. Doesn’t your family go all out for Christmas, like mine?” she asked.
“Yeah, but I haven’t been to a Christmas in a long time, and since I’m new to Manhattan Mercy I told Charles that I would work. Pay my dues. I don’t want others to think that because I’m a Davenport I get all these perks.”
“Really?”
“You seemed surprised by that.”
“I am,” she said, and sat cross-legged on the bed.
“Why?” he asked. “You know me.”
Ella stared at him, but it was hard to read her expression. “I did, but it’s been years since I’ve seen you. You could’ve changed. I mean, we’ve all changed.”
“Yeah,” he said. He’d changed. He was numb and though he survived his last tour of duty he felt like his soul was dead.
He was cold inside. In pain.
“I haven’t changed that much, Ella.”
Liar.
“Then I’m sorry. It’s just...given your name I assumed you got a free ride.”
“No, to Charles my name means nothing. I had to interview for a position and he expects me to work hard. I didn’t just get this position handed to me. And if I hadn’t got a position here I would’ve gone to another hospital.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Apology accepted.” Zac scrubbed a hand over his face.
“Well, since you’ve been in the service for so long I thought you’d be with your family instead of working.”
“It’s more important Charles is off for his boys. I don’t have kids or anything to tie me down.”
“True,” she said.
“How about you? Your parents usually have a big do as well. I know because our mothers competed slightly to get guests to attend.”
Ella smiled at him then, a deep dimple on her cheek that just made her smile all that more irresistible, and her blue eyes twinkled in the dim light from the emergency lighting in the room.
“I forgot about that,” she said wistfully.
“What? The party or the fact that our mothers compete?”
“Competition obviously. I’m painfully aware of my mother’s Christmas party.” She shuddered for good measure and he laughed.
He missed these easy talks they’d had. And that thought scared him. How she drew him in. It’s what their parents had wanted since they were young. He’d always balked at the idea and resented that Ella had been constantly pushed on him, but there was a part of him that wanted her.
He still wanted her, even after all this time.
When he’d stolen that kiss from her, he’d wanted more. He remembered that kiss clearly, touching her face, the taste of her lips and the sound of the small sigh that had escaped her lips when they’d parted.
Her cheeks had been flushed pink and those blue eyes had dilated with desire.
In that moment he’d wanted more, but her sister had walked in and Ella had run away.
And then he hadn’t seen her at the Christmas party, hadn’t seen her before he’d left to go back to Annapolis, which he’d thought was for the best. Only he could never get that kiss out of his head. It was the only kiss he’d never forgotten.
Ella was the one who’d got away.
But he couldn’t have her. He didn’t want to tie her to a broken shell of a man. Didn’t want to marry any one ever. He didn’t want family. He didn’t want to risk his heart to have it destroyed. With love came pain and as he’d served tours of duty he’d seen a lot of pain and suffering. The idea of losing someone he loved that much scared him to his core, because he saw the pain when a parent buried a child.
When a husband buried a wife.
The pain and loss of life.
And he’d experienced it. He’d been too close to it. His heart began to race.
“So, why are you working tonight?” he asked, trying to steer his thoughts away from the painful trajectory they were taking.
“I wasn’t supposed to be working tonight. The storm hit and I’m stuck here.” There was a hint of happiness in her voice and he couldn’t help but laugh at that.
“You sound relieved,” he said.
“I am! You know how my mother’s parties go. We all dress up in...” Her voice trailed off and she cleared her throat. “They’re a dreadful bore.”
Zac thought she was going to talk about the terrible dresses that Mrs. Lockwood seemed to like to force her children to wear. The dresses that Ella had worn when she’d been a teenager had never been flattering and he knew that she’d been the butt of many jokes.
She’d been short and had had baby fat. Of course, he’d never noticed the dress. Only the woman. The girl he’d kissed, his best friend.
That baby fat had transformed into luscious curves and as he studied her sitting on the cot he couldn’t help but let his mind wander to what was under those dark blue scrubs that she wore.
Oh, God.
“Well, if it’s any consolation I think that your mother’s parties were a touch more popular than my mother’s parties ever were.”
She cocked a finely arched blonde brow. “How so?”
“Your mother’s parties were never filled with barely controlled hatred between your parents. Passive aggressive digs at infidelity. Pinched and forced smiles. Awkward.”
Ella chuckled. “Oh, the polite fight, you mean? And they weren’t always. Before...”
“You mean before it came out my father had an affair and a secret love child?”
Ella blushed. “Yes, before that. Before Miranda. Your parents were happy.”
Zac sighed. Yeah there had been a time his parents had been happy, but it was hard to remember the way things used to be. And he wouldn’t trade Miranda for anything, but trust had been shattered after that and the family dynamic had changed.
And Zac had lost respect for his father and become ever more determined to forge his own way in this world.
“True, before that came to light they were happy.”
“My parents aren’t perfect. There have been many of those polite fights. ‘Henry, dear, perhaps you shouldn’t wear that color to the dinner, it clashes with the carpet.’ ‘Sylvia, dearest, what I’m wearing is fine, it’s all that plastic surgery affecting your eyesight.’”
They both laughed at that.
“How are our mothers friends again?” Zac teased.
“It’s called frenemies, I believe. They’re frenemies.”
“That’s it.” Then he yawned.
“Tired?”
“I didn’t sleep well last night,” he said.
“You’ve been working hard since you came on board,” she said.
“Look who’s talking.”
“True, still you really do look beat.”
“I’m fine,” he said. “Though you just came off a long shift. I really shouldn’t be complaining.”
Ella scooted over. “Come on, the floor can’t be comfortable. At least you can be slightly comfortable as we wait for our rescue.”
* * *
Ella didn’t know what she was doing. She should just leave him on the floor, but he was suffering.
A part of her was glad that he was, but it was small. It was just that vindictive part that she had. The bitter part that still remembered the humiliation he’d doled out to her.
“When are you going to pop the question to Ella Lockwood, Davenport?”
“Pop the question?” Zac asked.
“Yeah, you hang out a lot with her.”
“She’s going to medical school. We have that in common,” Zac said dryly.
“Come on, Davenport, it must be more than that!”
Zac laughed. “I have no interest in ever marrying a pampered society princess.”
Ella shook that internal dialogue out of her head. It was dialogue that had always eaten away at her. For years and years. It was her own personal demon she had to fight. Zac had utterly humiliated her in that moment.
