Читать книгу The Surgeon's Favourite Nurse - Teresa Southwick, Teresa Southwick - Страница 8

Hope was pretty sure a kiss had never before made her toes curl, but that changed the moment Jake’s lips touched hers. It was insane. She should back away from the heat. The problem was, insanity and heat had never felt so good. There was nothing aggressive or insistent about the way his mouth moved slowly, seductively, deliciously over hers. It was all lazy, luscious sizzle and simmer. She felt oddly safe and wanted to stay exactly where she was for as long as she possibly could.

He pulled back first and let his gaze wander boldly over her face as a small, puzzled smile curved his mouth. Apparently he saw something that made him thread his fingers in her hair and cup her cheek in his palm, brushing his thumb over her bottom lip. Her heart pounded almost painfully and her chest rose and fell rapidly with the need to draw in air. It felt as if she’d caught fire and the flames fed on every last ounce of oxygen in the room.

“Hope, that was …” He shook his head. “I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

Not what her quivering hormones wanted to hear. She was pretty good with a snappy comeback, a quick retort, witty one-liners. But her senses were in freefall and they’d taken rational thought along for the ride.

“And I didn’t mean to kiss you back. This is a bad idea. The worst. Like kissing common sense goodbye.”

Amusement turned his eyes silver. “Sometimes common sense is highly overrated.”

“That’s probably the first thing you’ve ever said that I agree with.”

She wasn’t sure, what with the blood rushing to her head, but she thought he groaned softly before taking her mouth again. Her lips parted and his tongue slid inside, thoroughly plundering any reserves of willpower she had left.

Their hands were all over each other as they panted and moaned and turned in circles, the intricate choreography of a sensuous waltz. Hope felt the wall at her back and Jake pressing against her front. Want tightened in her belly as need pooled between her thighs.

It was as if their minds and bodies had melded. Jake cupped the backs of her thighs and lifted at the same time she wrapped her legs around him. The harsh sounds of their breathing filled the room and fueled the fire of her wild abandon.

He kissed her neck and brushed away the skinny strap of her dress in his impatience to get to her bare shoulder. Then he trailed his lips down to the very top of her breast just visible over the neckline. He drew his tongue over her skin before blowing on the moistness. The sensation of cool on her heated flesh drove her crazy and she wanted him inside her more than she could remember wanting anything in her life.

When his cell phone rang, she changed her mind. Now more than anything she wanted to put the heel of her stiletto straight through his SIM card.

He pulled back, breathing hard. “I’m on call.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I have to answer.” His voice was harsh.

“Right.”

As she let her legs slide to the floor, he reached to the holster on his belt and retrieved the phone, turning his back as he answered.

“Andrews.”

Hope smoothed her palms over the skirt of her dress as she drew in a shuddering breath. This was like stubbing your toe and the too-short span of time before the inevitable unfortunate consequences registered in the brain. It was going to be uncomfortable and she wanted to hang out in limbo for just a while longer. Otherwise she’d have to admit that a cell call was the only thing that had prevented her from having sex with a virtual stranger against the wall of her office.

Her only excuse was that she hadn’t had sex for a very, very long time.

“Everything went as expected.” Jake’s voice was surprisingly normal. “Yeah. Not a single hitch in the plan. Right. Thanks.” While listening, he glanced over his shoulder to look at her. Intensity glittered in his eyes as his gaze settled on her shoulder and the dress strap trailing down her arm. “Definitely. Details when I see you.”

She slid her thumb under the strap and righted it as he ended the call. “Emergency?”

It hadn’t sounded that way. But she could hope. Maybe he would have to rush off and spare her an awkward conversation.

“No.” He raked his fingers through his hair.

She blew out a breath, not quite meeting his gaze. “So …”

“So …”

The corners of his mouth tilted up. Clearly he was amused. Hope was not. Irritation aimed at herself straightened her spine and fueled the need to regroup.

“I take full responsibility for that,” she said.

One dark eyebrow arched upward. “That?”

“You know.”

“Not so much. The receptors in my brain are fried. Put a finer point on it for me.”

He was enjoying this, she realized and started to fume. But she’d be darned if she’d give him the satisfaction of confirming her acute discomfort. Or the fact that he’d majorly turned her on.

“The kiss,” she said, deliberately lifting her chin so their gazes locked. “My mistake. I freely own my part in what just happened.”

“Very generous of you.” He slid his hands into the pockets of his charcoal slacks. The black shirt and tone-on-tone tie fit his trim body perfectly. Dr. GQ wouldn’t have to worry about the fashion police.

“Not generous. Honest.”

“Still … An admission like that could be construed as encouragement. How do you know I won’t stoop to using it to my advantage?”

She refused to give any ground. “That mistake is on me, but the bigger one would be assuming you could use it for your own personal agenda.”

“Agenda? Personal?” A wolfish expression settled on his handsome face making it an uphill battle to get this conversation back on a professional plane.

“Don’t miscalculate, Doctor. My slip-up will not give you currency in the workplace.”

“Oh?”

“You can’t come up with an unrealistic wish list and expect me to smile politely just because I kissed you.”

Jake’s sinful smile was a clear indication that the message missed its mark. “At the risk of shattering your illusions, Hope, nothing about that kiss was polite, which suits me just fine.”

She groaned inwardly, still living in limbo and guarding herself from the guilt. “You’re deliberately misunderstanding my point.”

He shook his head. “On the contrary. I got it. But you don’t have all the facts.”

“Which are?”

“I actually came to see you tonight to tell you I told you so.”

“I don’t get it,” she said.

“Okay, here’s the deal. My wish list just might carry more weight since earlier tonight I was offered the contract to be the chief trauma surgeon. I’m officially your boss.”

And Hope was officially in trouble.

She’d missed sex.

She hadn’t realized how much until Jake kissed her. Now she missed it a whole lot more.

The next day Jake sat in on Hope’s meeting with the department directors to assess their status regarding the target date for the Mercy Medical West opening. He had the chair to her left and knew she was talking because her lips were moving. The thing was, he was so fascinated by her mouth that he couldn’t concentrate on what she was saying.

Only last night he’d tasted her just down the hall from this conference room. If Cal Westen, his medical practice partner, hadn’t called to find out whether or not he’d been appointed to oversee trauma services, Jake would have done a whole lot more than just kiss her.

That had never been part of his plan, and he always had one. You didn’t go from living on the street to chief trauma surgeon without a disciplined and detailed blueprint of how to get there. Kissing a colleague wasn’t so much as a footnote on the blueprint, even if she did have a mouth in desperate need of a kiss.

“I’m sure you all know Dr. Jake Andrews.”

The sound of his name yanked him into the moment and he smiled at the directors of radiology, respiratory therapy, the emergency department and the E.R. doc, all gathered around the mahogany conference table. He was acquainted with them all.

“Dr. Andrews was appointed Mercy Medical West’s chief trauma surgeon last night.” A hint of pink creeping into Hope’s cheeks told him she hadn’t forgotten what else happened last night.

And what almost happened.

Everyone applauded the announcement and seemed genuinely pleased at the news. It was worth the price he’d paid—all work, no play or much pay for more years than he cared to remember. Now that he was at the top, nothing was going to get in the way of his staying there.

“Congratulations, Dr. Andrews,” Hope said. She barely met his gaze, then glanced at the agenda on the table in front of her. “Next I’d like a report from each department, in terms of how we stand in supplying trauma personnel.”

As the directors took turns getting her up to speed, Jake studied Hope and knew she was aware of him, too. The pulse at the base of her throat beat just a little too fast. He didn’t know whether or not to be pleased about that. The timing of this—whatever it was between them—was damn inconvenient.

“All right,” she said nodding. “Now I want to make sure we’re on the same page with identifying the levels of trauma. Mechanical injury—broken bones—is level one. Penetrating wound is level two. Head or traumatic brain injury is level three. Preliminary paramedic evaluation in the field will determine the trauma level of patients transported by ambulance. And walk-ins will have to be assessed by the E.R. doc who will determine the trauma level.”

A murmur of general agreement followed her remarks as the directors took notes.

“Next on the agenda is medical staff. We will apply for a level-three designation since Dr. Gallagher’s group signed on for neurosurgery and agreed to be in-house 24/7. That doesn’t mean on standby or on call. They will be physically on premises. Dr. Andrews can fill us in on whether or not we have adequate trauma surgeons signed on.”

“I’m in the process of interviewing several surgeons right now,” Jake said. “I’ll be ready before the doors open.”

“Good.” She was all business, the polar opposite of the tantalizing temptress of just a few hours ago. “Now for Radiology. Dr. Edwards, about the Nighthawk system …”

Jake knew that radiology used the Nighthawk system to send nonemergency tests to Australia via the Internet for interpretation. But the state of Nevada mandated that an interventional radiologist be in-house for invasive procedures that required diagnostic imaging or guidance for tapping blood buildup in the chest cavity or other emergency situations. Edwards was a hard-ass and not receptive to change, making Hope’s job a challenge.

The heavyset, balding doctor tried to glare her into submission. “It’s cost-effective to use the Nighthawk system.”

“In most cases, yes,” Hope agreed. “But there isn’t a choice about this. We can’t be designated a trauma center without an interventional radiologist in house.”

“And I need to pay the I.R., Miss Carmichael,” he said stubbornly. “They don’t come cheap. I have a budget.”

“Don’t we all.” She glanced at Jake, her hazel eyes narrowing slightly. “But there are other ways to trim.”

“None of them pretty.” He rested his elbows on the table. “What if there are no traumas?”

“It doesn’t matter. We’re a trauma center and have to staff for what could happen.”

“And I still have to pay the staff for doing nothing. My partners will not be happy and neither will I.”

“You agreed to the terms of the contract, Dr. Edwards,” she reminded him.

“Terms can be amended. I think hospital administration should absorb some of the cost.”

Hope stared him down. “I understand that the tendency is for every department to become territorial and insular, but the goal is for all the parts to function as one. Just like the body which can’t sustain life without a brain, heart or liver, a trauma response relies on all the departments for a successful outcome.” She glanced at each department director in turn before saying, “But I’m sure you’re all as aware of that as I am.”

Dr. Edwards shook his head. “When I can’t justify expenditures, it’s my reputation on the line. My ass in a sling.”

“As is mine,” she said.

Jake glanced in the direction of the body part in question which she was currently sitting on. From what he remembered, it was an excellently curved butt that fit nicely in his hands.

“This is not the time or place to be discussing financial arrangements. I suggest you speak to the administrator regarding your concerns. Bottom line,” she said, momentarily glancing at Jake as if she could read his thoughts, “I need your assurance that you’ll be prepared with an in-house radiologist around the clock.”

The radiologist stared at her for several moments, then finally nodded, albeit reluctantly.

“Good,” she said, smiling sweetly. “And last but not least, I’d like to discuss who should respond to a codetrauma page.”

Jake knew how he wanted it to go and was acutely interested in how she’d present this.

After glancing at her notes, she looked around the table. “In my opinion there should be someone from the lab, Radiology, Respiratory Therapy, Admitting and an ICU nurse. Just in case.”

“How about housekeeping and dietary?” Jake asked. “Or lions and tigers and bears, oh my.”

“Excuse me?” She met his gaze.

“You’re aware of the limited space in the trauma bays?”

“I am.”

“If you get all those people in there, it’s like an IV push of adrenaline. Looky-loos show up in droves. It will be a three-ring circus and you might as well sell tickets.”

Around the table everyone laughed and Hope narrowed her gaze on him.

“You didn’t let me finish, Doctor.”

“So you were going to say that the key to an organized trauma team response is …”

“Security,” she finished, one eyebrow raised. “Security will be trained to monitor who should and should not respond to a code trauma.”

He nodded, more than satisfied with her response. She knew her stuff. She was a smart cookie and sexy as hell. Damn inconvenient this thing arcing between them.

“That’s it for me,” she said, glancing at everyone around the table. She looked at him. “Dr. Andrews, it’s your meeting.”

“Gripes anyone?” They all got a chuckle out of that, including the radiologist. It took the edge off the tension of moments before. “Any other business?” Before they could answer, he stood and said, “Hearing none, I call the meeting to an end.”

Jake figured that everyone had had enough for today. Especially Hope. The room cleared quickly, as if they were afraid he’d change his mind and bring up something really complicated, like open-heart surgery with a cheese grater.

He remembered Hope telling him if he was as good in surgery as everyone thought, he could get a positive outcome with a potato peeler and a watermelon scoop. That made him smile.

“Something funny, Doctor?”

“Nope. Not a thing,” he said. Her frown said she wouldn’t find his thoughts amusing.

“Not even throwing me under the bus with the three-ring circus remark?”

“It was an attempt at humor. To keep tempers in check.”

“At my expense,” she accused.

“Did it occur to you that they were testing your resolve? That I set you up to show these guys you know what you’re doing?”

“Actually, no.” She folded her arms over her chest and leaned back against the table. “Did you?”

“Actually, no.” He wished that had been his motivation. “I was testing you.”

“You didn’t think I knew that a free-for-all in the trauma bay is a whole different kind of trauma?”

“I only know what’s on your résumé. Not your philosophy on setting hospital protocols.” Or anything else for that matter. Part of him wanted to know everything about her and that was bad.

“Apparently I passed.”

Oh, yeah. His gaze settled on her mouth and the memories came flooding back. One minute they’d been on opposite sides of the money-versus-medicine debate and she’d skewered his last nerve with her stiletto. The next he had her up against the wall and both of them were breathing hard while he kissed her senseless.

And she kissed him right back.

Another thirty seconds and he’d have been inside her. He’d been almost grateful when his partner’s call interrupted what would have been a huge mistake. But he carried around a big fat regret that he would never know what loving Hope would feel like.

“Yes,” he finally said. “You passed the test. Obviously you’ve been through a trauma situation with no one directing traffic.”

She nodded. “You do the best you can to think of everything, all the medical consequences. Sometimes you forget to factor in human nature. Basic curiosity.”

“Speaking of that—” He was so damn curious about her. If only he had internal security to direct that somewhere it wouldn’t bite him in the ass.

“Yes?” She tilted her head and her hair swung sideways, revealing the smooth expanse of sexy skin on her neck.

“Edwards is a pain in the butt. I’ll speak to him and make sure he backs off.”

“Why would you do that?”

Good question. He hadn’t planned to offer his help. Watching his own back had been top priority for a long time. “I know him. It might help.”

“Thanks. But it’s my job to deal with him.”

He nodded. “Okay, then.”

She was right; not his responsibility. Since when did he run interference for anyone? That was way too easy to answer. Hope Carmichael had tripped the switch on his protective instincts. There was something fragile about her that made him want to keep her safe when she should be dead last on his priorities list.

He hadn’t worked his ass off and scraped out a living all his life just to let sex with a tempting coworker derail his career plan.

“Okay, then,” she echoed. She straightened from the table and started to walk away. “I have work to do and I’m pretty sure you do, too.”

“Wait, Hope …”

She stopped and looked up. “Yes?”

“We need to talk.”

Something flickered in her eyes. Heat? Awareness? Regret? “I really have to go, Jake. You’re the one who ended the meeting because there was no other business.”

“It’s not about the hospital.”

She tucked a silky strand of honey blond hair behind her ear. “Then this must be about last night.”

She’d blamed herself, but he’d been a more-than-willing participant. He hadn’t meant for it to happen. He’d told her common sense was highly overrated, but that was lip service. No pun intended. Common sense had gotten him to where he was now. His career trajectory was right on target.

“Yeah. About last night—” He pushed his suit jacket aside as he rested his hands on his hips. Kissing Hope came under the heading “Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time.” They’d even agreed that kissing common sense goodbye was a very bad idea. Then they’d turned the bad idea on its ear and went for each other again.

It was time to clarify the mistake, clear the air and put the personal behind them. Get back on a professional footing because he had a lot at stake.

“Our priority needs to be getting the hospital open and running smoothly. At a profit,” he added, bracing for her reaction.

“You’re absolutely right,” she said.

“Anything of a personal nature between us would distract attention from that goal.”

“I agree completely.” She nodded so eagerly that it made his head hurt.

“This is important for the community.”

Not to mention himself. Success equaled power and security. Only someone who’d been powerless and insecure could understand how vital those intangibles could be.

“I’m really glad you brought this up,” she said seriously. “It’s like lifting a heavy load from my shoulders. What happened was a momentary, involuntary, reflexive, impulsive, spontaneous, inconsequential, insignificant—thing.”

“Agreed.” And yet her qualifying it to the size of something you could only see under a microscope was starting to tick him off. He’d spent a lot of time and energy worrying about how to handle this. “So we’ll just forget it ever happened.”

“Right. I so don’t need any problems in my life. Already forgotten. Thanks, Jake.”

Could she be any happier to be done with him?

He wanted to stop her when she walked to the door. He wanted to take back his words, but she might claim it was such a nonevent that all memory of their lips touching and sparks flying had been completely removed from her memory bank.

And how perverse that erasing it had been his goal in bringing up the subject. Talking about the elephant in the room was supposed to make it go away. He felt as if the effort had been a complete failure to meet the objective he’d had in mind.

Not only could he not forget about kissing her, but he was also annoyed that she could. Being frustrated at the success of his strategy was too stupid for words.