Free Under the Wire by Cindy Gerard Page B

his departure that left a chill as icy as an arctic front. The scent of musk and male that even the antiseptic hospital smell couldn't dilute lingered.
     
    "Ms. Campora?"
     
    Startled, she snapped her gaze to the resident and realized he must have addressed her once before.
     
    "You okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."
     
    Oh God. If he only knew.
     
    "Fine ... I'm fine," she managed, wishing her lie at least sounded credible.
     
    "You and Ortega," the uniform put in, unable to contain his curiosity, "you know each other?"
     
    "Um. Yeah." She nodded, still mired somewhere between a long-ago Central American summer and the improbable reality that was today.
     
    "Long .. . long time ago," she said when she realized both the officer and the resident were waiting for more. "What. . . um, what exactly was the problem here?" she asked, attempting to regain some semblance of professionalism when all she really wanted to do was chase after Manny.
     
    And do what? Let him slice you to ribbons with his glare?
     
    A thousand questions about what had prompted his hatred wove together in her mind, voiding one another out.
     
    "Detective Ortega wanted to question the patient," the resident said.
     
    "Crazy cop wanted to beat the hell outta me!"
     
    For the first time, Lily became aware of the teenage gangbanger lying on the gurney. The bandage wrapped around his forehead seeped blood. She'd been in Boston long enough now that she recognized the scarf tied around his bicep as the colors of a Hispanic gang whose members frequented the ER.
     
    And she'd known that Manny was on the police force. Had actually anticipated a similar scenario .. . running into him in the ER. Having chance take away the necessity of going to him.
     
    Well, chance had done just that.
     
    Nowhere in her imagination, however, had she anticipated his reaction. Shock, yes. Surprise, absolutely.
     
    But hatred?
     
    "Hey—I'm bleeding here!"
     
    The patient's aggravated demand snapped her back to the moment.
     
    "Stow the theatrics, Diego," the officer said. "Ortega saved your sorry ass and you know it."
     
    "I'm sorry, ma'am. I'm Officer Mullnix." He extended a hand.
     
    Lily shook it. "Lily Campora."
     
    "You sure you're okay?" Mullnix asked. "You're shaking."
     
    "Fine. I'm fine," she insisted.
     
    She tucked her hands in the pockets of her white jacket and balled her fingers into fists to steady them. "Detective Ortega—do you work with him?"
     
    "No, ma'am, but we do work out of the same precinct."
     
    "Hey! What about me? I'm still bleedin'."
     
    Lily glanced at the patient, then at the resident. "Are we all squared away here?"
     
    "We are."
     
    "Then treat your patient, Doctor."
     
    She slipped out of the cubicle, then walked straight to her office on rubber legs. She sank down behind her desk, clasped her shaking hands together on top of it, and stared into space.
     
    Manny.
     
    Memories she'd schooled herself not to relive resurrected themselves in vivid, living color and scent and sensation. A hot thrill of awareness arrowed through her. The reality of Manny's reaction doused it like a bucket of cold water.
     
    She ran a still-trembling hand through her hair. So much for sweet reunions.
     
    Not that sweet was what she'd wanted. Not after all these years. She'd hoped for cordial. Maybe even affectionate. And yet...
     
    She heaved a ragged breath. And yet she'd gotten so much more. He still tripped all those triggers. The damp palms, the weak knees, an almost Pavlovian ache low in her belly. Woman low. An ache she hadn't tended to in more years than she cared to remember.
     
    An ache he'd always known how to satisfy.
     
    At least that beautiful boy she'd known a lifetime ago in Nicaragua had known.
     
    And there was the difference.
     
    Manolo Ortega was no longer a boy. He was, very clearly, a man.
     
    Older. Harder. More gorgeous than ever.
     
    Angry. With her. Guess she had her answer as to why he hadn't contacted