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Although framed by red-rimmed eyelids and wet eyelashes, still shiny with unshed tears, her incredible blue eyes were filled with gratitude.
He’d never felt this disconcerted around a woman. There was something special about her, beyond the usual physical attractiveness. She had substance. She had kindness and compassion. She cared.
“But youarehelping them,” he said. “Your donations contribute enormously to the cost of research, medication, and ensuring a pleasant environment here.”
Caught up in what he was saying, he took her hands in his, the need to comfort her becoming his immediate priority.
“We both fight this disease in our own way, Miss Coriola. You make a big difference. The children need people who care, because there are far too many who prefer to hide behind indifference.”
Her mouth curved into the faintest of smiles, one that failed to reach her eyes, but she seemed warmed by his words and the touch of his hands cupping hers.
“Please call me Linda. You’re right, Doctor Leon, but in cases like this it’s never enough. At least that’s the way I feel. Saving even a single life is worth more than all the money I can offer. I gather you’re experimenting with a new vaccine or serum, one which has had promising results.” She hesitated a moment, as though dreading her next words. “I haven’t seen Lara today. Has she gone home?”
Gerard stood slowly, his heart contracting, the ache in his chest painful. He hadn’t been able to save the ten-year-old girl whose lungs were full of cancerous tumors. What hurt most was the fact he might’ve saved her had he been allowed to try.
“No,” he answered, his voice raspy to his own ears. “She passed away last week. There was nothing more we could do for her. The Medicines and Healthcare Regulatory Agency has yet to approve my serum for human use. Although her parents gave me their permission to try it, knowing she had nothing to lose, the clinic’s board still refused to sanction what they considered an illegal procedure. They claimed it was too dangerous, but the child died anyway.”
He swallowed audibly, his jaw clenched. Lara was one of many, but her death was more painful because he’d been so close to preventing it. His serum worked. He knew it. He just had to prove it.
“God, I’m so sorry. She was such a sweet child.” Linda stood, fresh tears shining in her eyes. “But… I don’t understand. Is your serum tested and ready to use?”
“It’s both, in my opinion, but the MHRA want to see more results, they want a more thorough, long term study. The animal testing and limited human trials we’ve completed clearly show that its few side effects are minimal compared to its healing potential. But, for some reason or another, they keep stonewalling me.”
Linda’s lips parted, her brow furrowed in outrage. “For heaven’s sake, why? Shouldn’t their priority be saving people’s lives?”
Gerard scoffed. “You would think so, but there are other considerations involved. Medical research doesn’t always line up with the financial considerations of others. Would it surprise you to know that potential cures exist? They do, but they’re locked away in computers, still only formulae that may never be turned into real medicines.”
Her mouth gaped. “Why?”
“Why do you think? The pharmaceutical industry is one of the world’s most lucrative money-making industries. What would happen to it if everyone suddenly were healthy?”
He moistened his lips, reluctant to say more. Let her draw her own conclusions. He didn’t want her to think he was some kind of mad scientist or conspiracy freak. After all, he had no real proof that someone was trying to prevent certain drugs from hitting the market. Bureaucracy was the same everywhere; legislation was flawed, and not just in the medical field.
She gazed at him intently before glancing away.
“I understand. My ex-husband is CEO of a pharmaceutical company. He drives a Ferrari and has a Rolex for every day of the week. What you’re saying makes perfect sense to me. He thinks I’m throwing my money away donating to HOPE, but he doesn’t have any say in the matter.”
“I’m glad you don’t listen to him.”
Ex-husband? One who just happened to be a millionaire and owned not one but seven of the world’s most expensive watches? Gerard hadn’t known that about her. Unfortunately it emphasized the differences between them and summed up the chances he might have had courting her. A doctor who earned just enough to make a decent living didn’t stand a chance with a millionaire artist with an ex with a Ferrari.
He shook his head, chastising himself for being an old romantic fool.Mon Dieu!He’d only met the woman a few minutes ago, a woman a good fifteen years younger than he was, and here he was picturing a relationship. But he couldn’t help it. Those extraordinary eyes of hers stirred something deep inside him.
He wasn’t a womanizer. As a single man in his early-forties, he’d had his share of relationships, but he’d always given as much—if not more—than he’d gotten. He’d never broken a woman’s heart, and when the relationship had run its course, he and his lovers had parted friends. Maybe because none of his relationships had involved the big L, that all-consuming, mind-numbing love that eluded him. Perhaps he was an idealist, or even an idiot, but he was certain that unless he found that absolute love, any attempt at marriage would end in divorce. But, as hopeless as this might be, he didn’t want the interlude to end.
“As Steve Jobs said, ‘a $300 or a $30 watch both tell the same time.’ Right now, the clinic clocks and mine say it’s time for dinner. Would you like to join me?” he asked. “I was just about to head out. There’s a new American-style diner that’s just opened. It’s close to the clinic and serves an excellent cheese omelet. I would like the opportunity to tell you about my research project. It’s only fair you know where some of your money goes.”
She hesitated a moment and then smiled, revealing charming dimples in her cheeks.
“I would love to hear about it, thank you,” she said, reaching for her handbag.
Gerard led her out of the visitors’ room and along the hallway. He stopped in front of his office door.
“Give me a minute to get rid of my lab coat, and we’ll be on our way.”
“Of course.”
He went inside, removed his coat, and grabbed his wallet and keys, stopping only to check himself in the mirrored door panel. He ran a hand through his short hair. While his shirt was slightly wrinkled, the creases weren’t obvious in the dark blue cotton, the color matching his jeans.
