a brilliant trauma surgeon, like your father.”
Great. Just what she needed. Roger Flynn, Version Two.
“Hey, Mol. About time you got here,” said her cameraman Rob, coming around the corner with her show’s field producer, Neal. “Thought we’d have to send out a search party.”
“Funny.” She smoothed her hand down her shirt, then asked Neal, “Everything all set?”
“Everything except the guy sitting in the room with the patient.”
“Molly?” Dr. Dave stood with his hand on the door. “Ready to go in?”
“Of course.” She turned to her crew. “Give me a moment.”
Resolve steeled, she followed Dr. Dave into Bobby Templeton’s room. Whatever this Dr. Ryder’s issue was with being on TV, she needed him to get over it or get out. Perhaps all those years of dealing with her father had made for good practice after all.
“Bobby, this is Dr. Molly Flynn, from Diagnosis Critical. As we discussed, she’ll be managing your case from this point forward.” Dr. Dave placed a guiding hand on Molly’s back and gave her a slight nudge. “Dr. Flynn, this is our local superstar—NWHL MVP Bobby Templeton.”
“Hey.” The burly guy gave her a small wave. “Honor to meet you. I watch your show all the time when I’m not training. My favorite episode was the one with the weird toe fungus.” His gaze darted from her to the man at his bedside. “What’s the matter, Jake? Tongue-tied around a beautiful woman?”
Dr. Dave smiled. “Dr. Flynn—this is Dr. Jake Ryder.”
She turned, her polite smile freezing then falling. Dr. Ryder was the gorgeous rescuer from the accident scene. With her luck, she should’ve guessed.
He looked different now, dressed in scrubs instead of his navy and black EMT uniform. Not that the pale green material looked bad. Quite the contrary. With his stethoscope slung around his neck—no lab coat—he was transformed into a stoic professional, but she wasn’t fooled. She’d seen glimpses of the passion lurking beneath his surface at the accident scene. In fact, just the thought of him rushing headlong into danger to save that little boy and his mother caused a fresh wave of giddiness to bubble through her.
But her attraction to him wasn’t a good thing. It was a distraction she couldn’t afford.
Molly swallowed hard against the lump in her throat caused by the tension between them. “Nice to meet you again.”
“Again?” Dr. Dave asked with interest. “You two know each other?”
“I came across an emergency scene where Dr. Ryder was working on my way from the airport. He seemed quite...handy to have around.” Molly rubbed her arm where Dr. Jake Ryder had grabbed her, her flesh still tingling from his touch.
“I should’ve guessed you were media.”
The way he said the last word, like a curse, set her hackles rising. Common sense demanded she keep her head down, focus on work. Ignore this man who broke her concentration and keep her distance. Unfortunately he seemed to push all her buttons without even trying.
She met his sanctimonious stare directly. “What’s wrong with the media?”
Instead of answering her question, the man looked back to Dr. Dave and exhaled sharply, his expression a mix of disgust and exhaustion. “Can we hurry this up, please? I’m coming off a thirty-six-hour rotation.”
“Jake, please,” Dr. Dave implored. “Dr. Flynn’s one of the best in her field. You should reconsider signing those forms. Together, you two could make a fabulous team.”
“No.” He widened his stance, an immoveable wall of nope. “No releases. Not until I’ve seen for myself I can trust her.”
It was the derision in his tone, Molly decided, that really got to her. She’d developed a thick skin over the years out of necessity, and could put aside almost any slight. Except one against her professional conduct.
Incensed, she stepped closer to the arrogant man, ignoring the heat of him penetrating her thin cotton T-shirt and the clean, soapy scent of his skin. Bad enough that she had to constantly prove herself to her father. She wasn’t about to take the same crap from this pompous stranger—no matter how maddeningly attractive.
“My integrity isn’t in question here, Dr. Ryder. Now, as per my network’s guidelines, I must exclude you from Bobby’s care unless you sign the required paperwork. I understand having the crew trailing your every step might be a headache, but—”
“You don’t understand a damned thing, lady,” he growled, his jaw set.
“Sorry, Dr. Flynn, but no one’s touching me if Jake’s out of the picture,” Bobby added. “My prerogative.”
Molly crossed her arms, all previous flutters of attraction for the handsome ER doc buried beneath a mountain of affront. She hated appearing so flustered, and cringed inwardly at the thought of how her father would judge her—letting her emotions get the better of her—but there was nothing to be done at this point.
“Then it appears we’re at an impasse.”
“Sure does.”
Dr. Ryder mimicked her defiant posture and didn’t give an inch. His gaze had gone positively flinty, and a small muscle ticked near his tense jaw, drawing her eyes to the hint of stubble shadowing his tanned skin.
“Why won’t you sign the releases?” she demanded.
“Why do you think it’s any of your business?”
His lips were pressed so tightly together Molly was surprised he could even get words out.
Dr. Dave coughed, the sound reverberating in the small room. “Jake, be reasonable. Dr. Flynn’s a prodigy. She graduated high school at thirteen. In addition to her medical degree she’s earned two PhDs.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “In what?”
“Art history and genetics,” Molly said, her tone equally frosty.
“Then I’ll be sure to call you the next time I need to know the DNA sequence for a Jackson Pollack painting.”
“Unfortunately for you, Mr. Pollack didn’t leave behind any DNA samples for testing. Although it might be possible to extract a specimen from his exhumed corpse, given the lack of oxygen and sunlight to denigrate the samples. In fact, the oldest actual DNA specimens hail from Greenland, extracted from beneath a mile of ice...”
Molly’s voice trailed off as she took in the dazed stares of the others in the room and her heart sank. Not again.
“Right.” Dr. Dave passed Bobby’s chart to her on his way to the door. “I’ve got other patients to attend this evening. Jake, you’ll have to leave if you won’t sign the releases. We discussed this.”
“I don’t want to be on camera.” Dr. Ryder scrubbed a hand over his face.
“Why not?” Molly asked again. “Perhaps if you voiced your concerns—”
“He just doesn’t, okay?” Bobby rose to the defense of his friend. “Can’t Jake be an off-screen consultant or something?”
The door opened and Neal stuck his head inside. “We need to get a move on, Mol. The network’s called me five times already, wondering when they’re going to receive initial footage.”
Molly hated to admit defeat, but things were getting desperate. If a compromise would get this guy to agree to the network’s terms then it was worth it—at least for now.
“Fine, Dr. Ryder. But you’ll have to work around my schedule. If I need access to Bobby you leave, no questions asked.” Molly extended her hand. “Deal?”
He didn’t move at first, and her hopes dwindled.