Radclyffe - Passion's Bright Fury Read online

  "And I can only give you a half an hour," Sax added with a genuinely apologetic shrug. "We're driving upstate to the meeting."

  "I understand. I'll make this as brief as possible."

  Jude had prepared a list of issues that she wanted to clarify regarding the hierarchical structure of surgical training, the factors that affected eligibility for the trauma fellowship, and the nationwide impact of level one trauma units on health care delivery and hospital financing. She worked her way through them quickly and efficiently. For her part, Sax answered cogently, having testified multiple times at the state and national level about similar issues.

  "Out of all the residents whom you interviewed," Jude said after nearly the full half hour had elapsed, "why did you choose Dr. Stein?"

  "Because she was the best qualified candidate," Sax answered immediately. "She performed well in medical school; she had excellent recommendations from one of the top ten general surgical training programs in the country; and she demonstrated a clear and focused intention to pursue a career in trauma surgery."

  "What about personal qualifications? How do they influence your decision-making?"

  "Obviously, we try to choose individuals with a philosophy and work ethic that will mesh well with that of our team. As you've seen, we work very closely for hours at a time together, and it is helpful to have individuals with similar visions and expectations."

  "Does gender affect your choice?"

  "No, and neither does any other personal characteristic."

  "I understand that's not always the case, even today. Surely it was different when you were training," Jude suggested. "There are still very few female surgeons in this country and definitely not very many division chiefs. Certainly you must have encountered difficulties because of your gender in view of your choice of specialties."

  "The face of medicine is constantly changing, and the place of women within it is well-established now," Sax responded neutrally and entirely noncommittally. She glanced at her watch pointedly.

  "Just a couple more questions," Jude said quickly. "I was doing the back stories on both you and Doctor Stein, and I need you to fill in a few of the details for me." Actually, she needed a lot more than that. While doing the routine back searches on Sax, she'd literally run into a blank wall. All the educational information in the CV Naomi Riley had provided her was verifiable, but when she had combed her usual sources for family and personal history she couldn't find anything at all. "It's helpful for viewers to form a connection to you. That way they can look forward to returning week after week, because they feel as if they know you. You know the kind of thing -- what your life was like growing up, why you wanted to be a surgeon, how your family feels about your work -- the sidebar type of story that was done so effectively with Olympic coverage recently."

  "I'm sure the viewers enjoy that sort of thing," Sax said blandly, but her shoulders stiffened with sudden tension. "And I'm sure Dr. Stein will be happy to provide you with that information. However, this project is not about me and I don't see where it's pertinent."

  "You're nearly as visible as Dr. Stein throughout this documentary, and you need to be, because you're her mentor and her... guide... for this year. Her relationship with you is probably the most important one she has during this period in her life. Who you are matters."

  "Does it?" Sax mused, standing. She began to push folders into her briefcase. "I think we're done."

  Jude stood also, stunned by the change in Sax's tone and expression. The surgeon had very clearly closed a door, and the action was as swift and lethal as a scalpel cut. It left Jude nearly breathless. She had never felt so completely and brutally shut out. It shouldn't have bothered her, because she'd gotten most of the information that she'd come for. She'd certainly worked with difficult individuals before, and she'd never taken their rudeness or lack of cooperation personally. But it wasn't Sax's manner that affected her so deeply; it was the loss of their fledgling personal connection. It was impossible not to take something personally when it hurt.

  "Sax..." Jude said, wanting to apologize but having no idea about what.

  "I'm late, Ms. Castle. Please excuse me."

  And with that clear dismissal, Jude had no choice but to leave.

  *****

  Jude had the afternoon free, since the next day she would be back in the hospital for another twenty-four hours of trauma call. She'd promised to meet Lori outside the hospital after her interview with Sax so the two of them could go somewhere for lunch. Glancing at her watch as she descended the elevator to the main lobby, she realized she still had a few minutes before Lori was due. Heading for the exit doors, she was surprised to see Sax a few feet ahead of her, briefcase in hand, clearly on her way to her meeting in Albany. For a minute, Jude contemplated catching up to her, and then realized it would just be an intrusion. What could she say that would seem like anything other than what it was -- curiosity about Sax's past and an irrational need to put their personal relationship back on better footing. Reluctantly, she slowed down to avoid her, but when she exited, she found Sax on the sidewalk apparently waiting for a ride.

  "Is this an important meeting -- the one with the state this afternoon?" Jude asked when they found themselves standing side-by-side.

  "Since a good deal of our funding is controlled by the state, yes." Sax shifted her briefcase to her other hand and regarded Jude silently. After moment, she said softly, "Ms. Castle..."

  "Jude, remember?"

  "Jude," Sax acquiesced with a nod, "we'll probably get along better if we stick to business." She'd noticed the look of confused hurt in Jude's eyes when she'd terminated their interview so abruptly. She hadn't intended to sound so brusque or to react so violently, but she hadn't expected Jude to question her so pointedly either. She'd responded reflexively, with the defenses honed over a lifetime. The way they had parted bothered her all the way down in the elevator from her office, despite how hard she had tried to forget about it.

  "I wasn't aware that you were concerned about how we got along," Jude said stiffly, resenting being placed on the defensive, and resenting it even more that Sax appeared to be setting limits on their relationship for reasons that were anything but clear to her. Not that that should even be an issue. Damn, why can't you just ignore her and do the job ?

  "I find that I am concerned," Sax answered contemplatively. "Despite the fact that you and your crew are a constant source of irritation."

  Jude was about to make a caustic response when she caught the edge of a smile. "Believe me, Dr. Sinclair, we have a long way to go before we could possibly master the art of irritation that surgeons seem to possess."

  "That's a point I can't argue," Sax said, laughing. Suddenly serious, she continued intently, "Look, about this morning..."

  Before she could finish, Jude heard someone call her name and turned to see Lori approaching, a broad smile of greeting on her face.

  "Hey," Lori said as she drew near, "I got through the deposition early and thought I'd take a chance that you would, too." She brushed a quick kiss across Jude's lips. "My day's looking better already."

  "Hi," Jude responded, momentarily nonplussed. Recovering quickly, she turned to Sax to introduce them and realized that the surgeon was no longer beside her. She glanced to the street where a sleek Jaguar convertible was idling curbside. Sax was just stepping into the passenger side of the vehicle, and Jude instantly recognized the attractive blond at the wheel.

  As Sax pulled the door shut and reached for her seat belt, she looked back at Jude. For a moment, their eyes held. Glancing once at Lori's hand resting casually on Jude's back, she smiled wryly and turned away as the Jaguar slipped out into traffic.

  "Jude? Who was that?" Lori asked, caught by the intensity of the dark haired woman's gaze.

  "That was Sinclair, the trauma chief," Jude responded, trying to shake off the image of Sax and Pam Arnold looking for all the world like a magazine cover couple.

  "She is... impressive," Lori rema
rked, unable to verbalize exactly what it was about the admittedly good-looking woman that had been so compelling. Or what it was about the way she had looked at Jude that made her uncomfortable.

  "Yes, she is," Jude said, meeting the attorney's eyes and resolutely banishing the image of Sax from her mind. "Ready for lunch?"

  "Sure," Lori said with a smile. She was probably just imagining the almost palpable connection she had sensed between the two women. After all, they had done nothing more than look at one another across the span of a crowded city sidewalk.

  Chapter sixteen

  Pam Arnold took her eyes from the road long enough to glance at her passenger, appreciating as always the austere attractiveness of Saxon's profile. She'd left the top down on the Jag because the evening was still warm, and the wind streamed through the other woman's dark hair like a lover's caress. With her face illuminated by moonlight, Sax looked wild and remote and seethingly erotic.

  "Are you on call tomorrow?" the neurosurgeon asked, reluctantly returning her eyes to the highway.

  "Yes," Sax replied faintly, watching the ribbon of macadam sliding hypnotically beneath their wheels, her mind elsewhere.

  "I can't believe that after an entire afternoon of arguing our case for continued funding, we had to sit through dinner with those bureaucratic bores and go through the whole thing again. I am sick to death of politics."

  "There's no way to avoid it," Sax commented absently. She hadn't been thinking of the afternoon's business as they tore south on the New York State Thruway toward home. She'd been thinking about Jude Castle and the woman who had greeted her outside the hospital. It shouldn't be a surprise that Jude has a lover. She's bright and dynamic and...quite beautiful. A woman like her would not be single.

  Sax shrugged against the shoulder restraint, trying to work the tension out of her neck and back, telling herself to forget it. The morning's interview with Jude had caught her off-guard. She was just tired. Still, for a moment, she recalled vividly the sight of the attractive stranger quietly claiming Jude with the subtle intimacy of a familiar touch. The memory sparked an emotion that was not only foreign, but disconcerting-envy. Intimacy was not something she usually missed, or consciously desired. Intimacy came with a price, and that price was often pain.

  "I don't know about you," Pam continued, "but I could stand a few hours away from work, away from the very idea of it, and I'm not in that big a hurry to get home. I'd like to take my mind off the fact that I've spent half my life training to do this job, and now I have to ask permission from idiots to do it."

  Grateful for the interruption to her troubled thoughts, Sax nodded agreement. "I wouldn't mind forgetting the entire day either."

  "We're less than an hour from my cabin," Pam suggested impetuously. "Let's stop there, get a bottle of wine, and stay the night. If we leave at five, we'll be back in the city in plenty of time for both of us in the morning."

  Sax's initial impulse was to say no, because she wasn't certain she had the energy to be decent company, and she wasn't certain what kind of company Pam might be looking for. They'd known each other casually for over a year, ever since Pam joined the staff at St. Michael's. Recently their conversations had taken on a decidedly flirtatious air, and Pam had pointedly asked her out a few months before. Sax had vacillated over accepting the invitation because she disliked complications, and dating in the conventional sense always got complicated. Glancing at Pam, trying to glean her intent from her expression, she debated how to respond. Then she realized that she had absolutely no reason to go home. In fact, if she did, she would very likely spend the night pacing or searching for something to help dispel her restless energy and her unwelcome emotions. She'd worry about Pam's intentions when and if she needed to-or wanted to. Pam Arnold was a very desirable woman.

  "That sounds fine. We ought to be able to find a package store that's open. Since you're providing the accommodations, I'll buy the wine."

  Forty-five minutes later, a chilled bottle of champagne in a cold-wrap bag resting between their bucket seats, Pam pulled up in front of a moderate-sized rustic cabin overlooking one of the myriad lakes in the Catskill Mountains. She'd chosen the hideaway because it was an easy drive from the city via the thruway, but still far enough from popular resorts to be private. She closed the top on the convertible and led the way up to the front porch of the wooden structure, sorting through her key ring as they walked.

  "Nice place," Sax remarked as Pam unlocked the door, and she meant it. Through the trees opposite the cabin she could see moonlight glimmering on the smooth surface of the lake, and although lights twinkled along the shoreline, there were no other structures in the immediate proximity. The night was very still and very quiet.

  "It's a perfect place to come to read or write or...to have some privacy," Pam said over her shoulder as she held the door open for Sax to enter.

  The large front room was enclosed on three sides by windows, while a stone fireplace and a double archway that led into a spacious kitchen took up most of the fourth. Sax assumed the bedroom was in the rear as well.

  "Is there ice?" Sax asked as she walked through the room into the kitchen.

  "All the modern conveniences," Pam said lightly as she followed. "I may like solitude, but rustic camping is not my idea of a good time. There's electricity, heat, and honest to God indoor plumbing. All the comforts of home."

  Laughing, Sax opened several cabinets above the long kitchen counter and found an array of glasses, including wine glasses. She pulled down two as Pam handed her a metal bucket for ice.

  "If you'll take care of this, I'll start a fire," Pam said. "It might be July, but what's a cabin without a fire? Besides, if we leave the windows open, it will cool off before long. By midnight, we'll need a blanket."

  By the time Sax had opened the bottle, filled the bucket, and found a tray, Pam had a small log burning nicely and had placed several candles on tables by the sofa. The effect was charming and intimate. Saxes handed her a glass of the champagne and sat next to her on the sofa.

  "So," Pam said, slipping off her Ferragamos and propping her silk stockinged-feet on the stone coffee table, "let's not talk about the hospital, or surgery, or politics, or anything remotely related to work."

  All right," Sax said, smiling as she shrugged out of her suit jacket and laid it over the arm of the sofa. "What does that leave?"

  Pam laughed. "We're pathetic. No sports. Let's see--film, literature, art, or plain old-fashioned gossip are acceptable."

  "It'll be a struggle," Sax joked, "especially the no sports part, but I think I can manage."

  Pam sipped her champagne and studied the woman beside her. She had always loved to look at her, and it wasn't just because of her physical appeal. There was a brooding sense of mystery about her that was incredibly attractive. Pam liked a challenge in her women, and Saxon Sinclair was certainly that. This was as close as she'd ever gotten to a private moment with her, and she didn't intend to let it pass. Leaning forward, the neurosurgeon rested her fingertips on the back of Sax's neck. Softly running a few strands of black hair through her fingers, she murmured, "Or I suppose we could skip conversation altogether."

  Carefully, Sax set her champagne glass on the small end table by her side. She turned back to find Pam only inches away, her lips slightly parted and her eyes liquid with promise. The statuesque blond was the very definition of sultry. Desire spread through Sax's body as the fingers in her hair slid under her collar and trailed over her neck.

  "I have this rule," Sax remarked softly, her throat tight with the sudden swell of arousal. Usually she didn't find many reasons to resist when a beautiful woman expressed an interest, but somehow she wasn't certain she could let this happen. Not with Pam, not now.

  "I don't think I'm going to like this," Pam whispered hoarsely as she moved closer on the sofa, her breasts brushing along Sax's arm. She traced the edge of Sax's ear lightly with one hand as she slid the other over Sax's abdomen. Muscles twitched under her fingers
and she smiled at the response. She enjoyed seduction, especially when the rewards were so tantalizing.

  "Pam," Sax said gently, catching Pam's hand as it slid lower towards the waistband of her trousers. "We have to work together almost every day. Something like this can make it awkward." She drew in a breath as Pam's fingers danced along her fly. Swallowing the involuntary moan, she added, "And I would rather avoid that."

  "Saxon," Pam murmured as she pressed her length against Sax's body and kissed the edge of her jaw, then moved her lips closer to the corner of Sax's mouth. "I'm not proposing marriage here."

  "I'm devastated to hear that," Sax said, laughing softly. For a moment, she was captured by the heady scent of Pam's perfume and the subtle hint of desire. Succumbing to the urge that spread hotly through her limbs, she angled her face to accept the kiss.

  When they both leaned back to catch their breath, Pam added, "I am proposing you spend the night making love with me, but I'm not opposed to going slower, if that's what you really want." Deliberately, she drew one finger along the pulse in Sax's neck and traced the faint trail of perspiration down the center of her chest. As she worked the first button on Sax's shirt loose, she mused, "Although I wouldn't have thought you the type to need courting."

  "It's not courting I require," Sax noted, her hips lifting automatically as Pam's hand slid inside her shirt and over the top of her breast. A couple more seconds of this and it won't matter why I thought this was a bad idea.

  "What is it then?" Pam asked as she dipped her head and pressed her lips to the skin she had exposed on Sax's chest. "That you require?"

  Anonymity , Sax thought to herself. The ability to walk away and owe nothing.

  Sax shifted away slightly, afraid that if Pam kept touching her, she would forget her basic rule of noninvolvement. Already hard and wet, she ached to touch the stiff points of Pam's nipples so clearly outlined against the sheer material of her blouse. She wanted skin against her palms and heat beneath her lips. She wanted to hear a woman cry out as she filled her and held that fragile passion in her hands. She wanted a woman to stroke her own aching need and she wanted to explode against the sweet demanding softness of another's lips. She wanted it badly, so badly that in another minute she'd forget that the woman she imagined in her mind was not Pam Arnold. A few weeks before it had been a dream vision, but even in the dream she'd known who it was that stirred her desire. One unguarded night, she'd nearly succumbed to that same woman in the dark still hallway of the hospital. Instead she'd let a stranger satisfy the lust Jude Castle had ignited in her that night, but she couldn't let Pam do it now. She knew Pam's face. They were friends.