Romancing the M.D.. Maureen Smith

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Romancing the M.D. - Maureen Smith Mills & Boon Kimani

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“she’s going to die!”

      Tamara knew he was right. The teenager had suffered blunt chest trauma during the traffic accident, so time was of the essence. Surely she and Victor wouldn’t be punished for taking matters into their own hands in order to save the girl’s life, she reasoned.

      After casting one last glance around the chaotic emergency room, Tamara sprang into action, setting up the ultrasound machine as Victor hurriedly unpacked a tray containing the necessary equipment for an emergency resuscitative thoracotomy. They didn’t have time to get the patient transported to an operating room. They’d have to perform the procedure right there in the E.R.

      After intubating the patient and donning protective equipment, Tamara and Victor went to work cutting open her chest cavity to gain access to her heart. With the hospital’s medical staff stretched perilously thin that morning, she and Victor had to rely on each other’s training and instincts to ensure a successful operation. Like a precisely choreographed ballet, they passed the scalpel, scissors and forceps back and forth, and moved out of each other’s way without being told. As Victor massaged the patient’s heart with his gloved hands, Tamara murmured encouragements to him.

      Suddenly their personal differences and grievances didn’t matter. All that mattered was the single goal they shared—to save a young girl’s life.

      So that’s what they focused on doing until an attending physician arrived to take over.

      Later that evening—after their young patient had been transported to the intensive care unit for recovery, and the other accident victims had been stabilized or discharged—Tamara and Victor found themselves alone in the interns’ locker room. It had been a long, exhausting day. All Tamara craved was a hot shower and a soft bed, though part of her was so wired from today’s events that she wondered whether sleep would elude her tonight.

      She was tying her sneakers when the deep, masculine timbre of Victor’s voice came to her from the other side of the lockers. “You did a great job today.”

      Tamara straightened slowly from the floor. She was surprised by the unexpected compliment. And undeniably pleased.

      “Thanks,” she said. “So did you.”

      “Gracias.” Victor paused for a moment. “We make a good team.”

      Something foreign fluttered in her belly. “Yeah,” she agreed softly, “we do. Shocking, isn’t it?”

      He gave a low chuckle. “Yeah.”

      A long silence fell between them.

      Tamara found herself holding her breath, waiting for him to say more. When he didn’t, she rose from the bench, grabbed her backpack from the locker and swung the door shut. As she started from the room, she tossed over her shoulder, “I’ll see you tom—”

      “Wait up. I’ll walk you outside.”

      She turned to watch as Victor emerged from behind the row of lockers. He’d changed into a blue T-shirt and dark jeans that rode low on his hips and clung to his strong, muscular thighs. His duffel bag was slung over his back, while a gleaming black helmet was tucked beneath his arm.

      He sauntered toward her, exuding such raw magnetism that Tamara’s mouth ran dry.

      When he reached her, she noticed two things at once: the color of his T-shirt brought out the piercing blue of his eyes, and his hair had gotten tousled when he’d put on his clothes. She had an overwhelming urge to reach up and slide her fingers through the thick, wavy locks to see if they felt as soft as they looked.

      “Ready?” Victor asked her.

      She glanced away quickly. “Sure. Let’s go.”

      They left the locker room and headed down the corridor toward the nearest exit. The hospital was so quiet, the chaos from that morning’s school bus accident almost seemed like a distant memory. But Tamara knew she’d never forget it. She and Victor had saved a sixteen-year-old girl from dying today. No matter how many years she practiced medicine, or how many more lives she saved, Tamara hoped she’d never take a single miracle for granted.

      As she and Victor neared the sliding glass doors that led to the parking lot, they saw that it was raining outside. No, not just raining. Pouring.

      “Oh, no,” Tamara groaned, dreading the fifteen-minute walk to her studio apartment in the torrential downpour. “I didn’t bring my umbrella to work this morning.”

      “I don’t think it’d do you much good,” Victor muttered grimly, his heavy brows furrowed as he observed the slanted sheets of rain falling from the night sky. “You’d be soaked to the bone by the time you got halfway home.”

      “I know.” Tamara frowned, eyeing the helmet under his arm. “You probably wouldn’t fare much better on your bike.”

      “Probably not.” But he looked like he wanted to try anyway.

      She heaved a sigh. “This really sucks. I don’t even remember the forecast calling for rain.”

      “I wouldn’t know. I never listen to weather forecasts.”

      Tamara’s mouth curved wryly. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

      Victor cocked a brow at her. “Meaning?”

      “Meaning that you—” The rest of her reply was drowned out by a sharp clap of thunder that rattled the building and made the overhead lights flicker.

      She and Victor stared at each other.

      “Looks like we’re gonna have to wait out the storm,” he said.

      Tamara nodded reluctantly. “Looks like.”

      Victor glanced around the quiet reception area, then said abruptly, “Come on.”

      Tamara frowned at him. “Where?”

      “Just follow me.” He started off down the hallway.

      When she remained where she was, he glanced over his shoulder at her. “If anyone sees that we’re still hanging around the hospital, we’re gonna get drafted into pulling another shift.”

      He was right.

      “Say no more,” Tamara muttered, hurrying after him.

      Chapter 2

      They rode the elevator to the tenth floor, where they disembarked onto a vacant wing that was undergoing construction. The long corridors were dimly lit, and plastic tarp covered the dusty linoleum floors. With rain lashing at the windows and forks of lightning streaking across the sky, the empty ward had a decidedly gloomy atmosphere.

      “We probably shouldn’t be up here,” Tamara said, her voice hushed.

      Victor chuckled softly. “What’s wrong? You afraid that some bogeyman is lurking in the shadows?”

      “Of course not.” A wry grin tugged at her lips. “But you have to admit that this would be the perfect setup for some cheesy horror movie. In fact, I’m pretty sure

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