Playboy Surgeon, Top-Notch Dad

CHAPTER ONE

HOW was cardiac nurse Blair Pendergrass supposed to avoid Oz Manning when he kept popping up in every aspect of her life?

Trying not to think of Madison Memorial’s hotshot new heart surgeon, she inserted a catheter into her patient Latham Duke’s vein. Attaching the intravenous equipment, she taped the tubing to secure the line to the banker’s arm.

“You’re really good at that.” Mr Duke relaxed his clenched fingers now that the IV line was in place. “The last nurse who stuck me about killed me.”

Blair smiled. She enjoyed what she did and took great pride in causing as little pain as possible to her patients.

“Let’s hope Dr Manning doesn’t finish the job that other nurse started.” Wrinkles furrowed his pale forehead at the thought of his arteriogram.

Since Oz’s arrival, every female in LA—Lower Alabama, that was—had gone gaga over him.

Except Blair. She consciously avoided the six-foot-two heart surgeon who reputedly broke as many hearts as he healed.

She’d written Oz off as a hopeless playboy years ago when he’d visited his mentor Dr Ted Talbot. Sure, he could charm the habit off a nun with one crook of his little finger, but Blair had learned her lesson with regard to full-of-themselves men.

Been there, done that, had the scars to prove it.

Still, for what Oz was doing for Dr Talbot, she’d tolerate his insufferable womanizing ways.

Her heart squeezed. For nearly half a year Dr Talbot had been battling the metastatic cancer that had started in his colon and aggressively spread to his pancreas, liver and hip.

“I know an arteriogram is a common procedure, but frankly having something rammed through my groin and up into my heart terrifies me,” Mr Duke continued on a breathy note. “Especially by a new doctor.”

Blair patted his hand. “Although he’s new to Madison Memorial, Dr Manning isn’t a new doctor. He previously worked at one of the country’s leading cardiology clinics.”

“So I hear.”

“Then you heard right.” Blair administered the medication that wouldn’t completely put Mr Duke to sleep, but would make him less aware of what was happening. “With Dr Talbot on medical leave—” oh, how her heart broke at his rapidly declining health “—Dr Manning is the most highly skilled surgeon on staff. There’s no one I’d trust more with my heart,” she assured him honestly. Oz’s professional résumé was impressive.

“Isn’t that sweet,” a cocky male voice praised from a few feet away. “I never knew that’s how you felt.”

She silently cursed Oz’s timing.

Meeting his blue gaze, she took in his pleased grin. Dimples dug into his cheeks, adding a boy-next-door charm to his good looks. Blair rolled her eyes. He’d be much easier to deal with if he was cross-eyed, bald, paunchy and dim-witted.

None of those things, Oz’s grin widened.

Heat infused her bloodstream as surely as it would Mr Duke’s when Oz pushed the dye. Blair had great empathy with the hot, flushing sensation described as the number-one side effect of the dye used to illuminate the vessels.

“Good morning, Latham.” Oz’s gaze skimmed over the monitors hooked to his patient, who was already visibly relaxing from the medication. “Is Blair treating you well?”

“The best.” The man nodded toward his IV. “As gentle as she put this thing in, she’s officially my all-time favorite nurse.”

“I hear that a lot.” Oz flashed a teasing look her way. “Blair being a favorite, especially from men.”

Puh-leeze.

Her short, dark hair and plain green eyes made her average in looks. Childbirth had left her hips too wide, her breasts too big, and her body perpetually ten pounds heavier than she wanted it to be.

She hadn’t been any man’s favorite in a long time.

If ever.

“Beautiful and good at her job, too,” Mr Duke mused. “She’s a keeper.”