The Surgeon's Favourite Nurse. Teresa Southwick

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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

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