Free AFTERGLOW by Catherine Coulter Page B

while Dr. Corning, the anesthesiologist, asked her questions.
    "What do you mean, do I take any drugs?" she asked, her voice slurred and slow. "Ask that idiot on the moped."
    "Chelsea, are you on any antibiotics, prescribed stuff like that?"
    "No," she said, "not even birth control pills."
    Thorpe Corning smiled at David and said suavely, "Something for you to take care of, David. Now, Miss Lattimer, any allergies? Like to penicillin?"
    "No, and please stop. I don't do anything except drink white wine."
    "All right," Thorpe said, "now here's what's going to happen." Neither doctor was certain that she heard or understood.
    "Take good care of her, Thorpe," David said.
    "I always do, my man," Dr. Corning said, grinning as he rose. "And since she's a special interest, I'll sing to her while she's going under. I gather that's why you're not doing the surgery?"
    "You got it," David said. "Besides, Dennis does pretty stitching."
    Chelsea was aware of white, an endless expanse of white. She frowned, then gasped aloud at the throbbing pain in her stomach.
    She heard a voice, a very gentle, firm voice, telling her to hold still.
    Then David was saying insistently, "Chelsea. Open your eyes."
    She could manage that, just barely. He was blurred at first, but she kept blinking until he was in focus.
    David looked down at her, trying to smooth the lines of worry from his forehead. After all, the surgery had gone well. She just looked so small and lost, swathed in the white hospital gown, her face nearly as white as the sheets. Her black hair was tousled, her lips pale, devoid of her usual peach lipstick. She looked vulnerable, helpless, and he wished he could magically change this day into tomorrow. Even with painkiller, she would feel like the pits for a good eight more hours. He saw her bite her lower lip. He gently picked up her hand and held it.
    "Chelsea," he said, "I know you hurt, but try not to fight it, all right? Just take shallow breaths. Abdominal surgery isn't pleasant, but the pain won't last all that long. I'll give you something for it in a little while."
    "What are you doing here?" she asked, his words going through and over her head. She felt muddled and heavy and stupid. "I'm in bed, but my bedroom isn't white like this. I didn't invite you to spend the night, did I?"
    "Not this time, no. You're in the hospital. Do you remember the moped?"
    "I'm not stupid or senile." She flinched, remembering that odd sharp pain in her stomach. Now she remembered everything.
    She heard him chuckle.
    "You told me it wouldn't hurt anymore. What's wrong?"
    He heard the fear in her voice and repeated what he'd already said. "You've had surgery. You were very lucky. The wound didn't penetrate anything important. You're going to be up and about in another week."
    Surgery! Someone had cut her open! David!
    But she couldn't work up the outrage to tell him that he'd had no right—no right at all—to cut her open; she felt too crummy. She swallowed the gasps of pain that threatened to erupt from her throat and turned her face away on the very hard pillow.
    David straightened, releasing her hand. Dennis Madson had done a fine job. The incision was small, the stitches set beautifully, and he'd only given David an understanding smile when he'd said he didn't want to assist. David had paced the waiting room like an expectant father during the entire surgery, too scared out of his wits and much too worried to assist Dennis. It was only when it was over that Dennis had showed him the results.
    He wished he could find something to say, but he couldn't. He knew she was upset, hurting and confused. He smoothed some black curls away from her forehead again, his touch featherlight. He thanked the good Lord that he'd been there in the emergency room to take care of her.
    "You silly woman," he said very softly, smiling crookedly as he remembered her shouting at him, "You lecher!" He knew stories were already buzzing around the emergency room about Dr.