The Doctor's Meant-to-be Marriage

“What?” Her sarcasm surprised him, gave him opportunity to drive another wedge between them, something he desperately needed at the moment. The feel of her body still lingered and he wanted nothing more than to refresh that memory. “Mommy and Daddy didn’t shower you with enough of their money and attention?”

Her jaw dropped. She narrowed her eyes and lifted her chin. “Something like that.”

For the second time since her arrival in Madison, she stormed away from him, leaving him wondering if he’d pushed her too far in the wake of Lacey’s visit and his thoughts about Laura.

Left him wondering why he wanted to go after her and make her explain the hurt in her eyes.

Somewhere in Chelsea’s childhood something had gone terribly wrong and Jared was pretty sure her parents had a lot to answer for.

For that matter, so did he.

CHAPTER SEVEN

LATER that evening Chelsea sat at her desk, skimming over her lab call-back list to make sure she hadn’t overlooked anyone. She hadn’t. Which meant she was free to leave. Only she didn’t want to go home to an empty house, and with Will in the emergency room that’s exactly what she’d be doing.

An empty house reminded her of the empty mansion where she’d spent her lonely childhood. After her conversation with Jared she needed childhood reminders like she needed a hole in her throbbing head.

She usually kept her cool, kept her practiced smile on her face when someone mentioned her parents. Why Jared’s remark had got to her she wasn’t sure. Then again, everything about the man got to her so she shouldn’t be surprised.

A knock sounded on her door, and she glanced up. Her breath caught. Minus his lab coat, Jared stood in his dark slacks and pullover that emphasized his broad shoulders and narrow hips.

She reminded herself she was irritated at him for his careless comment.

Then again, she couldn’t blame him for the problems of her youth when really there wasn’t anyone to blame. Her parents were wonderful doctors, but just hadn’t been able to love a defective child when they’d been the ones used to charmed lives. They’d wanted her to be perfect, had been willing to pay any price to achieve that perfection, even when it meant putting her through painful procedures and therapy, even if it had meant robbing her completely of any semblance of a normal childhood. At times she’d felt they’d worried they’d be contaminated if they spent much time with her and that’s why they’d traveled more often than not, doing research, mission work, striving for medical care for all. She’d been left behind with her nanny and various doctors and therapists.

But her parents did the medical

community a lot of good, and she could never begrudge the world their contributions. Too bad they’d had such little compassion for their daughter, insisting on brace after awkward brace, operation after painful operation, therapy after long-enduring therapy. When they’d wanted to send her back for more cosmetic surgery at seventeen to decrease her scarring, she’d refused, not able to bear the thought of going under the blade again, not for vanity reasons, not when the surgery had really been more to do with her parents trying to turn her into the perfect person than for her.

They’d forced her to see a psychiatrist, accused her of deviant, unappreciative behavior, threatened to have her committed for therapy. Thank goodness Will had stepped in, offering to take her with him on his spring break and “make her see reason”. But he’d never pushed her to have her scars removed, and had calmly informed their parents Chelsea wouldn’t be undergoing any more surgeries.

Those scars were reminders of who she was, how much she’d overcome, but she’d be lying if she didn’t admit they were also a source of contention. She protected those scars, only having shown willingly one person the slashes along her spine and shoulder blades. Kevin’s reaction had forever ended her relationship with him.

How would Jared have reacted to the horrific vertical cuts if she had bared her soul and body to him? Would he have turned away in disgust as well?

“You’re not speaking to me?” he asked when she remained lost in her own world. “Not that I blame you.”

Knowing she’d never know the answer to her question, she pushed the paper she’d been holding away and met his blue gaze.

“Sorry. What can I do for you?” She kept her voice coolly professional. She didn’t need or want a repeat of earlier, and she felt too tired to attempt to change his mind about her.

“Actually, I came to tell you that.”

She blinked, thinking she’d missed part of their conversation. “Pardon?”

“The sorry part,” he clarified, walking into her office. “I had no right to say what I did.” He looked like a contrite little boy, a mischievous one who’d gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “I know nothing about your childhood and shouldn’t have said anything. I’m sorry, Chelsea.”

What did one say to something like that? He hadn’t had a right to judge her, but she hadn’t expected the apology, or the look of sincerity and concern on his face.

“Perhaps I was overly sensitive.” She’d dealt with similar comments in the past and had maintained a smile, not gotten upset. Jared was the difference.

“Or perhaps I judged your life based on nothing more than knowing Will and who your parents are. Not necessarily enough to make an accurate call.”

“You know how I feel about my brother, and my parents are good people.”

“That doesn’t necessarily make them good parents, though, does it?” His gaze bored into her, refusing to let her look away.

Chelsea had quit fidgeting years ago. Actually, the bulky back braces she’d worn for months on end hadn’t allowed her to fidget. But had she not had years of practice of sitting still she’d no doubt be squirming all over her seat because Jared saw too much.