Instead of answering, Benito had a coughing fit. I helped him sit upright and held his hand as he fought to catch his breath.The man who strongly resembled Mr. Costa watched me with a narrowed gaze the entire time.
“Coughing is good,” I assured the patient, ignoring his son. “It helps release excess mucus.”
“You’d be so much better off in the hospital, Dad.”
“Despite my agreement with that statement,” I said to him, “your father has rights, too.”
“I like her,” Benito said. “Let it go, Noah.”
Noah? I thought Parkes said his name was Nero.
The son glared at me, crossing his arms in a stance surely meant to look daunting. “I won’t change my opinion on this matter, despite what either of you says.”
“Seeing as you’re not my patient, your opinion doesn’t affect me in the slightest.”
For a brief second, I regretted my words as the younger Mr. Costa took a step toward me.
But his father’s voice lashed out, stronger than it had surely sounded in weeks. “Drop it.”
Chapter Two
Noah
Alarm bells went off in my head. Nobody—and that meant not a single fucking person—questioned my authority. My father’s health was not to be gambled with, and to know this woman, who was supposed to be looking out for his best interests, agreed with his stupid decision just pissed me off.
“Why should I drop it?” I asked him, keeping my gaze on her. “The hospital made it clear you needed to stay there, but you ignored their instructions.”
“Must we belabor the point in front of the newcomer?” Dad grumbled.
I heard the underlying weariness in his voice and felt bad for helping to cause it. “I’ll be more than happy to see the doctor out.”
I didn't add the wordsfor good,but they hung in the air between us. She didn't appear fazed by my unrelenting stare, which I found unsettling.
“Wentworth,” she supplied. “My name is Dr. Wentworth, and I can see myself out.”
“Thank you for your time,” Dad said politely, and I frowned.
Why was he so charming with her after three minutes in her company? Why did he already trust her when he knew nothing about her? Following her to the door, I slapped my hand on it as she reached for the knob.
“Excuse me,” she said, her voice less confident than it had been.
Good.
“Why you?” I asked.
Staring a hole through the door, she said, “I don't understand the question.”
Neither of us had moved, and I saw the muscle in her throat move up and down as she swallowed. My intent was to make her nervous, to throw her off her game.
I wanted her rattled so she’d be unwittingly honest.
“Why did Grandview send you and not someone else?”
Stepping a few paces back, she faced me fully. “Because, Mr. Costa, I am at the top of my field. I’m a world-renowned thoracic surgeon, and am in fact overqualified to care for your father. But he’s a big enough donor that my chief of staff wanted only the best, so here I am.”
Taking one step toward her, I said, “A little arrogant, aren’t you, doctor?”
Her face reddened ever so slightly. “It’s not arrogant to state the facts.”
