Mirror Image by Sandra Brown Read Free Book Online Page A

that. I must have your cooperation and wholehearted confidence in my ability.”
    “If you didn’t have my confidence, I wouldn’t have retained your services,” Tate said bluntly. “I don’t think you’re lacking in skill, just sympathy.”
    “I save my bedside manner for my patients. I don’t waste time or energy bullshitting their families, Mr. Rutledge. I leave that to politicians. Like you.”
    Tate and the surgeon stared each other down. Eventually Tate smiled, then laughed dryly. “I don’t bullshit either, Dr. Sawyer. You’re necessary. That’s why you’re here. You’re also the most pompous son of a bitch I’ve ever run across, but by all accounts, you’re the best. So I’ll cooperate with you in order to see Carole returned to normal.”
    “Okay, then,” the surgeon said, unaffected by the insult, “let’s go see the patient.”
    When they entered the ICU, Tate moved ahead, arriving first at her bedside. “Carole? Are you awake?”
    She responded immediately by opening her eye. As best he could tell, she was lucid. “Hi. Mom and Dad are here.” He moved aside. They approached the bed.
    “Hello again, Carole,” Zee said. “Mandy said to tell you she loves you.”
    Tate had forgotten to caution his mother against telling Carole about Mandy’s initial session with the child psychologist. It hadn’t gone well, but thankfully, Zee was sensitive enough not to mention it. She moved aside and let Nelson take her place.
    “Hi, Carole. You gave us all a fright. Can’t tell you how pleased we are that you’re going to be okay.”
    He relinquished his position to Tate. “The surgeon’s here, Carole.”
    Tate exchanged places with Dr. Sawyer, who smiled down at his patient. “We’ve already met, Carole. You just don’t remember it. At the request of your family, I came in to examine you on your second day here. The staff plastic surgeon had done all the preliminary treatment in the emergency room when you arrived. I’ll take over from here.”
    She registered alarm. Tate was gratified to see that Sawyer had noticed it. He patted her shoulder. “The bone structure of your face was seriously damaged. I’m sure you’re aware of that. I know your husband has already told you that it will be fully restored, but I want you to hear it from me. I’ll make you look like a better Carole Rutledge than you were before.”
    Beneath the bandages, her body tensed. She tried to shake her head vigorously, and she began to make desperate guttural sounds.
    “What the hell is she trying to say?” Tate asked the doctor.
    “That she doesn’t believe me,” he calmly replied. “She’s frightened. That’s customary.” He leaned over her. “Most of the pain you’re experiencing is from the burns, but they’re superficial. The burn specialist here at the hospital is treating them with antibiotics. I’m going to delay surgery until the risk of infection both to your skin and your lungs is minimal.
    “It will be a week or two before you can move your hands. You’ll start physical therapy then. The damage isn’t permanent, I assure you.”
    He bent down closer. “Now, let’s talk about your face. X-rays were taken while you were still unconscious. I’ve studied them. I know what must be done. I have a staff of excellent surgeons who will assist me during the operation.”
    He touched her face with the tip of his ballpoint pen, as though tracing over the bandages. “We’ll rebuild your nose and cheekbones by using bone grafts. Your jaw will be put back into place with pins, screws, and wires. I’ve got a whole bag of tricks.
    “You’ll have an invisible scar across the top of your head from temple to temple. We’ll also make incisions beneath each eye at the lash line. They’re invisible, too. Some of the work on your nose will be done from inside, so there will be no scars at all there.
    “After the surgery you’ll be swollen and bruised and you’ll generally look like hell. Be prepared