Mercy by Julie Garwood

when he opened his eyes, she was leaning over him, blocking out the glaring light above him.
    “It’s time for you to go to sleep, Mr. Buchanan.”
    “He’s fighting it.”
    “What . . .” Theo began.
    “Yes?”
    “What do you want from me?”
    The man hiding behind him answered. “Mike wants your appendix, Mr. Buchanan.”
    It sounded good to him. He was always happy to accommodate a beautiful woman. “Okay,” he whispered. “It’s in my wallet.”
    “We’re ready.”
    “It’s about time,” the man said.
    “Who do you want to hear tonight, Dr. Renard?”
    “Need you ask, Annie?”
    A groan went around the room. Then a click. Theo heard the chair squeak behind him, then the stranger’s voice telling him to take deep breaths. Theo finally figured out who the man behind him was. Damn if it wasn’t Willie Nelson, and he was singing to him, something about Blue Eyes cryin’ in the rain.
    It was one hell of a party.

CHAPTER FOUR
    T heo slept through recovery. When he awoke the following morning, he was in a hospital bed. The side rails were up, and he was hooked to an IV. He closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind. What the hell had happened to him? He couldn’t remember.
    It was past ten o’clock when he opened his eyes again. She was there, standing beside the bed, pulling the sheets up around his waist. Blue Eyes. He hadn’t imagined her after all.
    She looked different today. She was still dressed in surgical scrubs, but her hair wasn’t hidden underneath a cap. It was down around her shoulders, and the color was a deep, rich auburn.
    She was much prettier than he remembered.
    She noticed he was awake. “Good morning. How are you feeling? Still a little drowsy?”
    He struggled to sit up. She reached for the controls and pushed a button. The head of the bed slowly rose. Theo felt a tugging in his side and a mild stinging sensation.
    “Tell me when.”
    “That’s good,” he said. “Thanks.”
    She picked up his chart and started writing while he blatantly stared at her. He felt vulnerable and awkward sitting in bed in a hospital gown. He couldn’t think of anything clever to say to her. For the first time in his life he wanted to be charming, but he didn’t have the faintest idea how to go about it. He was a die-hard workaholic, and there simply hadn’t been room for social graces in his life. In the last four years — since his wife’s death — he had become blunt, abrasive, and to the point because it saved time, and Theo, these days anyway, was always in a hurry to get things done. This sudden turnabout surprised him. He actually wanted to be charming. Go figure, as his youngest brother, Zack, would say. Still, Theo thought he could manage it. Yeah. Charming was definitely doable.
    “Do you remember what happened last night?” she asked, glancing up from her notes.
    “I had surgery.”
    “Yes. Your appendix was removed. Another fifteen minutes and you definitely would have ruptured.”
    “I remember bits and pieces. What happened to your eye?”
    She smiled as she started writing in his chart again. “I didn’t duck fast enough.”
    “Who are you?”
    “Dr. Renard.”
    “Mike?”
    “Excuse me?”
    “Someone called you Mike.”
    Michelle closed the folder, put the lid back on her ink pen, and tucked it into her pocket. She gave him her full attention. The surgical nurses were right. Theo Buchanan was gorgeous . . . and sexy as hell. But none of that should matter. She was his physician, nothing more, nothing less, yet she couldn’t help reacting to him as any woman naturally would react to such a fit specimen. His hair was sticking up and he needed a shave, but he was still sexy. There wasn’t anything wrong with her noticing that . . . unless, of course, he noticed her noticing.
    “You just asked me a question, didn’t you?” She drew a blank.
    He could tell he’d rattled her, but he didn’t know why. “I heard someone call you Mike.”
    She nodded. “Yes. The