Heartbreaker by Laurie Paige Read Free Book Online

yesterday.” Her laughter sounded more like a nervous whinny. “So I agreed to see you because of them, because I care about them.”
    â€œOf course,” he said smoothly, and began the descent into Houston.
    Â 
    â€œHow long have you been having chest pains and shortness of breath?” Michael asked on Thursday.
    It was after five. His office was closed and only his most stubborn patient was still there. He’d asked Susan to come over after hours to discuss the results of the tests she’d had taken that week.
    She tilted her head to one side. “Who says I am?”
    For a second he actually considered kissing that mulish expression off her lovely face, but that might lead to other complications and he couldn’t afford them.
    Monday, he’d had a hard enough time doing his job when he’d had her undress and put on an examining gown. Listening to the erratic beat of her heart had made his own go a little crazy. Barely touching her smooth skin had conjured up visions of climbing onto the table with her and making love instead of checking her health.
    He hadn’t had those kinds of problems with a patient since his early days in medical school. He smiled grimly to himself. Sometimes his job was tougher than usual.
    â€œYou can lie to your parents and yourself, but not to your doctor,” he chided, injecting a hint of humor into the moment. It didn’t work.
    â€œYou don’t know everything.”
    Denial was common in patients with serious conditions. To make progress, she had to get past that. As with the death of a loved one, a person had to go through the stages of grief before acceptance could come. Coming face-to-face with your own mortality wasn’t easy.
    Susan wasn’t at that point yet.
    But it would have to come. And soon. He decided on brutal honesty. He laid the reports in a neat pile on his desk, his eyes locked on hers. “If you try to continue your present lifestyle, I’ll give you three months. If you take it easy, you might have a year.”
    She looked stunned. “What? What are you saying?”
    â€œThe tests indicate your heart is failing. It drops beats regularly. You didn’t get five minutes into the stress test before you became dizzy and weak. You have angina and shortness of breath. How much plainer can I get? In how many more ways does your heart have to warn you it needs help before you listen?”
    He had to give her credit. She didn’t blink. She didn’t cry or curse or do any of the things a patient usually did.
    Lifting her chin, she said, “I see. Well, I suppose I’d better get my affairs in order. Isn’t that what you tell terminal patients—to get everything sorted out?”
    He shrugged. “I find most patients do as they please without hints from me.”
    Her eyes flashed green fire. Fox fire. Again he suppressed an urge to kiss her into…what?
    Acceptance of her fate? Acceptance of his touch?
    Turning away abruptly, he pocketed the charts in her folder and laid them in the file basket. “Your life is in your hands. You’ll have to decide the future.”
    â€œIf I have a transplant, won’t I have to take medication the rest of my life?” she asked, her manner now almost subdued.
    He liked the fire better. “Probably. A lot at first, then it’ll gradually taper down as your body learns to live with the new heart.”
    â€œQuits fighting the alien invasion, don’t you mean?”
    Ignoring the sarcastic question, he stood. “Would you like to join me for dinner?” He hadn’t realized he meant to ask until that moment.
    She shook her head. “I’m going to watch the new ballet the company is putting on tonight.”
    â€œA classic, or one of those modern things I never seem to understand?”
    â€œWe call it fruit salad,” she replied with an endearing little laugh. “A mixture of light, fun pieces from a