Careless Love

By Theresa Scott

Doctor Sly Coombs, plastic surgeon extraordinaire, lives life in the fast lane, experimenting with drugs. Now he’s on a one-way ride to hell.
Bodine Marshall can see where he’s headed. She, too, knows the siren call of drugs.
Only together can they face the twin demons of addiction and abandonment and find their way to true love.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Theresa Scott
• Release date: Jan 30, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370827756

Theresa Scott

About the AuthorTheresa Scott is a novelist who writes historical and contemporary romance. She is currently working on her “Raven Immortals” series, which follows the adventures of the men and women who spent their lives working in the North American fur trade in the late 1820s.Theresa's books have sold over 600,000 copies worldwide, including the US, Canada, Australia, France, India, Italy, Germany, Holland, Spain, Taiwan, and the United Kingdom.She sets her stories in a variety of centuries and cultures, ranging from prehistoric times, to Norse times, to the days of the fur trade, and the wild west.Growing up in a small coastal fishing village, Theresa spent her time fishing for perch, swimming, climbing trees, and hiking the nearby beaches and forests. She has also lived in a small cabin in the woods in British Columbia, fetching water from a stream, and chopping wood for an old iron cook-stove that did double duty for cooking and keeping the cabin warm.These experiences, plus her educational background in Anthropology and summers spent on archaeological digs, filled her imagination with stories. Most of all, she writes about how love gives meaning to one's life. How people treat one another, how they interact with cultural 'rules,' or how they explain the world to themselves: all of it serves the bigger story that Love is a magnificent gift to humanity.Theresa makes her home in the beautiful Pacific Northwest where she and her in-house Archaeologist--who also happens to be her kind and patient husband--live with their little dog and the joys of electricity and running water."Theresa Scott's stories are distinctive, well-plotted and unforgettable." ~Debbie Macomber“Theresa Scott's captivating writing brings you to a wondrous time and shows you that love itself is timeless.” ~ Affaire de CoeurWebsite address: https://www.theresascott.comSubscribe to Theresa's newsletter: https://www.theresascott.com/contact.html

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Careless Love

by

Theresa Scott

Published by Theresa Scott

This book was first published in 2012. This edition was revised by the author in 2015

Copyright © 2012 Theresa Scott

Cover illustration copyright © Rae Monet Designs, Inc.

License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.  This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people.  If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with.  If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please return to Smashwords and purchase your own copy.  Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

Careless Love

Doctor Sly Coombs, plastic surgeon extraordinaire, lives life in the fast lane, experimenting with drugs. Now he’s on a one-way ride to hell.

Bodine Marshall can see where he’s headed. She, too, knows the siren call of drugs.

Only together can they face the twin demons of addiction and abandonment and find their way to true love.

Dedication

To every professional and volunteer who works to free the addicted.

Thanks

With thanks for all the guidance on addiction, medical issues, and other human behaviors:

Vivian, Family counselor

Flora, Nurse

Arthur, Plastic Surgeon

Laurie, on alcohol and chemical dependency

Sabrina, on chemical dependency

Jane, Nurse

Chapter One

Seattle, Washington

Ouch. Eyes clenched tight, Bodine Marshall gritted her teeth as a lightning zing of pain shot through the tender flesh below her right eyebrow.

No pain, no gain. Li, the Vietnamese-American cosmetologist, kept her voice no-nonsense as she tweezed Bodine’s eyebrows.

For the past few months, Bodine had been a regular visitor to Li’s Salon, located several blocks away from Bodine’s medical clinic office in downtown Seattle. Bodine’s waist-length black hair, no doubt inherited from a long lost Hawaiian ancestor, needed the occasional touch up of color, a job that was difficult for her to do alone. She appreciated Li’s help when it came to dabbing color on the few premature gray hairs that had recently appeared in her life. She didn’t want to admit it, but she was aging, ever so slightly. To combat that fact, she’d decided to get her eyebrows shaped, a first for her.

Another bolt shot through her as Li attacked the upper left eyebrow. Bodine’s eyes flew open. Why am I doing this?

But she knew why. Knew, too, the hopelessness of it as the image of Doctor Sly Coombs burned through her brain—his movie star good looks, dark hair, and brilliant blue eyes. He was the reason she had to have perfect eyebrows.

Tonight, at an awards ceremony in his honor, she would present him with a prestigious plaque to officially thank him for his extremely generous donation of five hundred thousand dollars to the Altop Chemical Dependency Clinic, where she worked.

Maybe tonight he would notice something about her that was perfect, even if it was just her eyebrows. Notice, and perhaps, fall in love with her.

Such a silly hope, Bodine thought morosely. Out of the vast parade of blonde, beautiful, perfect women whom Sly Coombs dated, why would he look at one raven-haired, slightly too busty, slightly too rounded, slightly too short, and slightly too imperfect, Ms. Bodine Marshall? Hah!

We do hair color next week, yes? asked Li. I see gray.

Zing! Another gash of pain. Won’t hurt so much next time, the young, dark-eyed beauty promised Bodine.

Bodine closed her eyes and told herself it would be worth it, even if Sly didn’t notice her.

A glance in the mirror, which Li held up, showed faint pink marks between her eyebrows where fine dark hairs had been removed. But what a lovely new curve to both her brows! She nodded her thanks to Li, pleased with the effect.

Finished, said Li.

Bodine paid and tipped the cosmetologist generously. They settled on an appointment for Bodine’s next hair coloring.

She left the salon and walked the several blocks to her office at Altop. Approaching the front doors of the rehab clinic, Bodine lingered for a moment in the late afternoon sun to admire the freshly planted geraniums and white baby’s breath spilling out of the round cement pots near the door. The red hues of the geraniums reminded her for an instant of the bright tropical flowers she so loved to see in Hawaii whenever she visited the islands. Ah, if only she were as beautiful.

Stop it, she told herself, yanking open the door and entering the air-conditioned interior of the building. Forget Sly Coombs. He’s out of your league. Think of Lawrence, who loves you. He’s young, handsome, ambitious. Perhaps even a tiny bit worshipful. He’s going to ask you to marry him, any day now.

Though younger than Bodine, Lawrence’s maturity and calmness drew her to him. And he certainly admired her. She was aware enough of herself and her motivations to know that his adulation fed some hungry, wounded part of her.

Doctor Sly Coombs, on the other hand, did not particularly notice her, besieged as he was by beautiful women.

Bodine walked deeper into the cool interior hallway, nodding acknowledgment as she passed Corey, a new patient in his twenties and freshly out of detox. Accompanying him was an Altop staffer, Dion, who was keeping an eye on Corey in case he needed extra help.

As Patient Care Manager of the hundred-bed chemical dependency center, Bodine was part of a large staff that included doctors, rehab counselors, dieticians and several housekeeping and administrative staff. Administration was the solid mainstay of her job, and she recognized the importance of that work to the clinic.

But her first love was intervention. She’d come up through the ranks, counseling and doing intervention work. Even now, whenever the clinic was short-staffed for the time it took to call a worker in, or during emergencies, she would step in to convince a hollow-eyed, trembling alcohol abuser or addict to enter rehabilitation.

A quick glance at her phone told her she had about an hour left to tackle some of the endless paperwork piled on her desk. After that, she was off to the fundraiser where she would try and get through an evening, once again, without making a fool of herself over Sly Coombs.

*****

Speak of the devil, thought Bodine, as she ducked into the fancy ballroom of the four-star hotel where the award ceremony was being held. In one corner of the room, Sly Coombs held court. Attentive to him was a large group—many of them female, beautiful, and blonde—who hung on his every word. He held them all in thrall, his gestures expansive and welcoming.

Bodine’s gaze swept the room for a place to sit—anywhere away from Sly would do—while nearby a white-jacketed waiter whisked dinner plates off a table. Knots of people, some tackling chocolate-coated pyramids of cake on white plates, congregated at tables. The sounds of laughter and conversation drowned out the soft chords of a piano.

She’d arrived too late for dinner. A last-minute decision to stay at the clinic to convince a remorseful young man to enter rehab had prevented her timely arrival. Yet she didn’t regret the lost time, not for a minute. Providing help to addicts called to her. At least she’d arrived before the awards ceremony.

Her gaze had a will of its own. The animated throng of medical doctors and financial professionals laughed and gestured as Sly entertained them. Smooth, that was Sly. Handsome, rich, successful, unattainable, that was Sly.

I wish you were mine, thought Bodine. An inadvertent glance in a mirror on the hotel wall surprised a look of naked longing on her face, and she turned away.

She’d known Sly for five years. From the first time she’d met him she’d felt it: an overwhelming attraction as inexplicable as it was strong. She’d never been able to stop the effect he had on her. Drawn to him in spite of all rational thought, she constantly fought to stay sane in his presence. The same hunger overcame her every time she saw him.

Bodine knew she was doomed. She wanted a man who would never give her a second glance.

I’m here in a professional capacity, Bodine reminded herself as she turned to watch him again. I can’t have fantasies about him. I can’t.

A beautiful woman with shoulder-length, perfectly sun-streaked blonde hair, stood a little behind Sly and watched him adoringly. Bodine recognized the type, if not the individual. She could probably count on one hand the number of brunettes or redheads she’d seen Sly with over the years. Blondes, always blondes.

This evening’s choice appeared to be about twenty-five, slim, and perfect in every physical aspect. She listened to Sly as if every word that dropped from his lips was a pearl of sheer genius. Which it probably was. Sly was brilliant in his chosen profession and several recent celebrities of movie and television screen paid secret visits to Sly’s Seattle clinic. They owed their flourishing careers to his artistry with a scalpel. Breasts, tummies, buttocks, eyelids, lips—Sly did it all and did it well. Every woman he worked on attained a new height of physical perfection and her career soared.

Lawrence, remembered Bodine desperately. Think of Lawrence. He says he loves you….

But Lawrence in memory stood no chance against Sly in person. Much as she wanted to, she couldn’t make her feet take even one step in any direction away from him. Just then, Sly glanced at her and, for a stricken moment, Bodine’s gaze collided with his. A shiver of electricity shot through her.

Sly looked unmoved. His was the chiseled beauty of a Greek god who’d deigned to descend from Mount Olympus and mingle with humans. Or, if not from Mount Olympus, at least from the City of Angels. The film industry, rather than the plastic surgery profession, seemed far more appropriate for a man with his devastating looks.

And then he smiled at her and all Heaven broke loose. Bodine could feel the heat creep up her neck to her cheeks. She held her breath, not daring to breathe and destroy the frail moment of connection between them. There was a sweetness in his smile, a glance with it that said he was having fun, and he wanted her to be a part of that fun.

Excitement filled her veins. It was as if the sun had come out; her skin warmed, her blood pumped. Looking at Sly was the closest thing to a rush she’d experienced in a long time.

In a wink, the white flash of his smile was gone and his gaze went back to his audience. He began regaling them anew with his charm and charisma.

She plummeted straight down. Cold, bereft. Gone was the light. Gone, the heat. Back to dull, everyday life without him. Stop it. Stop craving him! She wanted to run out of the room. Instead, she gritted her teeth and stayed. After all, it was she who would hand him the award this evening, in genuine gratitude for what his donation meant to the patients, and staff, of Altop Clinic.

Her skin felt as though she’d spent the afternoon in a sauna. How does he do it? How can a single look from those blue eyes reduce me to a smitten schoolgirl?

She averted her gaze from Sly as he held court, only to have her gaze fall upon the stunning woman with him. She had perfectly arched eyebrows.

Bodine had to take a deep breath to keep from breaking into hopeless sobs. Beautiful women had passed through Sly’s life for years, but the woman with him tonight was the most perfectly enhanced specimen Sly had ever dated.

Bodine’s heart sank.

She turned and made her way to a table, groping blindly for a chair so that she could fall into it and sit there until the room stopped spinning and her heart stopped aching.

*****

Sly watched Bodine Marshall walk away. He didn’t miss a beat as he regaled the crowd before him with a brief story about a certain female celebrity, who would remain nameless, and the acrobatic, sexual high jinks she’d shared with her boyfriend before the stitches had time to heal.

Bodine had stopped at his table, and was sitting down in a chair. He was always careful to keep his distance from her. There was something about her that spelled ‘danger’ to him. Those turquoise eyes of hers, set against that year-round, natural tan had sent more than one shiver through him; unlike the eyes of Champagne, or Kelly, or Angie, or Kari or any one of the hundreds of women he dated. Tonight it was Andora.

But Bodine would never measure up to what he wanted in a woman. As a plastic surgeon of some renown, he had access to beautiful celebrities in any city, be it Seattle, LA, or New York. Women fell at his feet. Constantly. If they didn’t fall because of his looks, they fell because of his money. Every single one of them. Except Bodine. He couldn’t figure her out. He had to admit, some part of him was afraid of her. Afraid she’d look at him with those awesome turquoise eyes and see beyond what he wanted her to see. He always felt some faint hint that she could see what others couldn’t—that secret part of him that he hid from everyone.

Enough of the deep stuff, he thought. Tonight he was going to enjoy himself. He’d worked hard today and tonight he would play even harder. And Angie was just the person to help him party. Oops, Andie.

Not only was Andora bubbly and effervescent, the girl could get her clever little hands on whatever upper or downer a man wanted. After tonight’s fundraiser, he and Andie were attending an exclusive little party for two to celebrate properly. They’d get thoroughly wasted on some good cocaine. He hoped. Or meth. That would be all right, too. He was growing fond of anything he could snort. Or smoke.

Already tonight he and Andie had smoked a little pre-party weed—a well-known export from another North American country—before coming to the hotel. A guy had to have something to get him through tonight’s droning speeches.

Bodine sat alone. He smiled inwardly. How would you like that, Ms-Cool-as-a-Cucumber-Marshall? What would you do if you knew the big donor to your rehab clinic was pleasantly stoned right this minute and would be doing a few lines of coke later this evening?

It still ticked him off that she was dating that uptight prig. What was his name? Lawrence Something-or-Other… No sooner had Sly made his donation to Altop than he’d seen her on the arm of the guy. And it was a huge donation, by the way, given in the hopes that maybe the little lady might finally jump into bed with him, just for a romp, of course, nothing serious.

Where was her gratitude? Obviously, she had none if she was always seen about town with the prig, and so Sly had been forced to go on a three-day run where he’d done at least an eight-ball of coke and enough alcohol to keep him cool.

Someone in the crowd, another plastic surgeon who was not nearly as good as he thought he was, asked Sly a question about the good side and the bad side of a well-known actress’s face. Why doesn’t she get facial surgery to correct the bad side? he demanded of Sly. Instead, she makes the camera crew work around her imperfections. What is her problem, inconveniencing people like that? Time is money.

Sly chuckled and agreed with the disgruntled doctor. He grinned inwardly. Said actress had an appointment to go under Sly’s scalpel next week, but he was damned if he’d let the competition know that. He merely grinned and said instead, If there is a flaw, get it surgically corrected. Perfection is achievable. That’s my advice.

And it was Sly’s firm belief, too; one that kept him rich and much sought after by patients since there were so many people with physical flaws. A flood of women unhappy with their bodies poured through his door every week. In fact, he had more business than he could handle and had to turn patients away.

The crowd gradually dispersed and he knew he’d have to walk over to the table where Ms-Cool-as-a-Cucumber sat. He wasn’t excited about the prospect. And speaking of flaws, Bodine could use a breast job to help with the barely perceptible sagging his sharp eye detected. A small tummy tuck wouldn’t hurt either, and she should really do something about all that black hair. Too much of it, and too long, down to her waist. He squinted in her direction. Her eyebrows looked okay, though.

Ready? he asked Andora.

She put her arm through his. I’m always ready, baby, she purred. If you know what I mean. A passer-by hearing her would have thought she referred to sex, but Sly knew she was promising him something better! He grinned. Andora was all right in the sex department, but she wasn’t really into it unless she was loaded. He could always tell. She actually seemed to like getting high better. Which was fine with him because he liked it, too.

They were halfway to the table, and to Bodine, when he turned to Andie. I have to talk to an old friend. Run along to the ladies’ room for a minute.

I suppose it’s a woman, she sniffed.

None of your business, he said. God, he hated it when women got possessive. They did it all the time. They all wanted one thing: marriage. Well, it was obviously time to dump Andie and find someone else. No marriage noose for this guy.

Pouting, Andie pretended to spot someone she knew in the crowd