Hot Bodies Boxed Set: The Complete Vital Signs Erotic Romance Trilogy (16 page)

Joanna was crashed out on an unmade cot in the residents’ quarters after nearly sixteen straight hours of OR duty when she felt someone poke her in the shoulder.

“Go ‘way,” she moaned, and pulled the paper-thin cot pillow over her head. “Sleeping.”

The poking turned into violent shaking. “Mmmmpph,” Joanna growled, and burrowed herself underneath the rough cotton coverlet.

Suddenly, Joanna found herself on the floor. Someone had overturned her cot. She rubbed her sleep-crusty eyes and looked up. Maryam Malone stood over her, arms folded and mouth set in a hard line. “Joanna, get up.”

Joanna looked at her watch. It was eight-thirty a.m., which meant she’d only managed to get about four hours of sleep. “Please, Maryam. I’m not due back in the Surgery department until noon. Leave me alone.”

“Joseph Middleton wants to see you in his office right away.” Maryam grabbed Joanna’s right arm and dragged her to her feet.

Joanna stretched, trying in vain to loosen the kinks in her back and neck. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” Maryam sighed. “But he sounded pretty impatient.”

“All right. Just let me get a shower and change my scrubs.”

“Actually, Joanna, there’s no time for that,” Maryam said. “Mr. Middleton wants to see you immediately.”

Joanna’s jaw dropped. “But I—I’m dirty, and sweaty, and—I look like a street hag!”

Maryam took a set of fresh scrubs out of the closet and handed them to her. “Put these on, and just put a paper scrub cap over your hair. I’ll stall Middleton long enough for you to change, but you better be in his office in five minutes, or believe me, he’ll be mad enough to spit nails.”

Maryam left.

As Joanna tugged on the fresh scrubs, a hundred thoughts coursed through her mind. What had she done wrong? She knew that recommending Dr. Wilkinson be pulled back from suspension had been the right decision medically. Even if he did make everyone who worked under him miserable, Harlan always put patients’ needs for the best possible care above all. No matter how irrational or obstinate an administrator Joseph Middleton was, surely he couldn’t find fault with Joanna for that. There must be something else.

Joanna tucked her sleep-mangled hair under a paper scrub cap and set out for the hallway. Just as she was crossing the threshold of the dorm, however, a terrible possibility emerged. What exactly had Shirley Daniels overheard between Joanna and Harlan the night before? Shirley had been suspicious of Joanna’s relationship with the ill-mannered surgeon even before walking in on their heated argument. There was no telling what the younger nurse knew now. Joanna had never known the nurse-anesthetist to be malicious. But fraternizing between doctors and nurses on staff was against hospital policy. Did Shirley take Harlan’s insults and mistreatment in the OR personally enough to report his illicit romance with Joanna in revenge?

Or worse yet, did Shirley want Harlan all to herself?

There was only one way to find out. Joanna had always been adept at handling herself under pressure, and today wouldn’t be any different. She stood up tall and marched down the corridor to Joseph Middleton’s office.

****

“Joanna, I don’t like dealing with this kind of thing on the job, so I’ll get right to the point. Joseph Middleton’s voice was chill and hollow. “Are you sleeping with Dr. Harlan Wilkinson?”

Joanna felt the bottom drop out of her stomach. “Excuse me?”

Middleton’s mouth was a thin hard line. “Just answer the question.”

“Mr. Middleton, if you don’t mind, I am not comfortable discussing my private life with you.”

The elderly man sighed. “My apologies, Joanna. I wouldn’t normally think to ask you questions that invaded your privacy, but I received some rather disturbing calls this morning that leave me no choice.”

Joanna sucked in a mouthful of air. “What do you mean,
disturbing
calls?”

Middleton got up from his leatherbacked chair and began to pace the room. “This morning I received two calls. One from an attorney, claiming to represent your former husband, Mr. Robert Watson. That attorney claims that you are engaging in an inappropriate sexual relationship with Dr. Robert Wilkinson—who, I might remind you, is also your direct supervisor.”

Joanna went pale as paper. “That—that’s not true,” she sputtered. Her voice came out as a squeak. She wasn’t exactly lying, either. As far as she knew, her sexual relationship with Harlan
was
over.

“Well, I want to believe you, Joanna. As I’m sure you know, intimate relationships between unmarried attending physicians and subordinates are prohibited by hospital policy. I called Wilkinson in here myself this morning and asked him if there was any truth to the allegations, and he vehemently denied it. That and your own word would have been enough for me to dismiss the attorney’s claim as malicious and unfounded under normal circumstances. But shortly after I spoke to Wilkinson, I received a second, more disturbing call on the same subject—this time, from one of our own hospital staff. I’ll refrain from saying who.”

Joanna looked down at the floor. It was as she feared—the second call had to have been from Shirley Daniels. There was no other explanation. “What did this other person say?”

“This staff person alleged that she—or he—overheard a conversation between yourself and Wilkinson in the OR that can only be described as a lover’s spat. Is this true, Joanna?”

It took a moment before Joanna could reply. Her jaw seemed to be wired shut. After much effort, she spoke. “No. It’s absolutely untrue,” she said, feeling her stomach tie itself into knots at the lie. “What this—person overheard, he or she must certainly have misinterpreted the conversation. I am sure if you confront Dr. Wilkinson on the topic, he will say the same.”

Middleton collapsed back into his heavy upholstered chair. “I’ve left a message for Wilkinson to see me about this latest allegation, but he hasn’t responded yet. If he responds the way you say he will, I will consider the matter closed. If not, I will be forced to launch an investigation, per policy on this sensitive kind of matter. It’s nothing personal against you of course, Joanna—you’re just about the best nurse I’ve got, and I’d hate to lose you over something trivial like this. But policy is policy, and I have to adhere to it, like it or not. I hope you understand.” The old man folded his hands onto his parchment desk blotter.

“Of course, sir.” Joanna’s knees had gone to jelly. She suddenly felt very faint.

“Are you all right, Joanna? You’re very pale.”

“Fine, sir. Just very tired after so many hours on duty. With your permission, I’d like to return to the dormitory for some rest before I go back into the OR at noon.”

“Permission granted, of course,” the old man said, adding some much-needed cheer to his voice. “Rest up, Joanna. We need you to be at your best.”

“I know,” she muttered. “Thank you, Mr. Middleton, for having faith in me.” Joanna nodded her leave and headed down the corridor back to the dormitory, dragging her feet in shame all the way.

****

Shirley Daniels was furious.

She paced the length of her living room, practically wearing a trough into her shag carpeting. All the time and effort she’d spent to make herself into the most fuckable woman in Statesville had failed.

She had just failed to seduce Dr. Harlan Wilkinson.

Shirley didn’t understand it. Where had she gone wrong?

She’d dropped tons of hints in the OR—all of which Harlan either rebuffed or ignored. She’d sauntered up to him in the men’s locker room postop, even flashed him a little boob—nothing. He’d told her to leave him the hell alone. And if she didn’t, he promised to report her to Human Resources for sexual harassment.

Who the hell did that man think he was, anyway? Because Shirley knew for a fact that Harlan and Joanna had been banging each other on hospital time, too. What a hypocrite he was for threatening
her
!

Well, she’d show him. She’d show Harlan and Joanna what happened when they messed with the sexiest, most fuckable woman in town.

She’d make sure neither one of them would be able to show their faces in public ever again. And while she was making the rounds around town last night, she’d met just the man to help her do just that.

Bob Watson, Joanna’s ex-husband.

And Bob had exactly the kind of information that would help Shirley get the kind of revenge she wanted.

****

At just past eleven, Joanna sat in the hospital break room, eating some microwaved ramen noodles and corn chips she’d bought from one of the vending machines. She’d showered and freshened up, and wore a fresh set of scrubs. Lying to Mr. Middleton about the nature of her relationship with Dr. Harlan Wilkinson weighed heavily on Joanna’s shoulders.

True, she and Harlan technically weren’t lovers. Not anymore, anyway. But even as Joanna stiffened her resolve to never allow herself to fall under Harlan Wilkinson’s seductive spell again, she would be lying if she said she still wasn’t wildly attracted to him. In fact, she was probably more attracted to him now than ever.

Joanna munched her pathetic breakfast and considered her increasingly desperate situation. Would Harlan back up her story when Middleton confronted him for the second time? She expected he would, but knowing that he would publicly deny ever having feelings for her a
second
time only caused her even more pain. What would be the harm in Joseph Middleton knowing the truth about their liaisons?

What harm, indeed. Both Joanna and Harlan could be booted from their jobs, publicly humiliated, and worse.

Joanna spent the last dollar she had in her purse to buy a Red Bull energy drink from the vending machine. She needed energy to face the many demons bearing down at her today. Joanna took the thin silver can from the machine, popped the top, and prepared to down the foul-tasting stuff when a gruff voice just behind her made her freeze.

“That junk is very bad for your stomach lining, Joanna. Not to mention the heart.”

Joanna turned on her heel and found Harlan staring back at her. He was in fresh green scrubs, well-worn Airwalk sneakers, and was unshaven. A tight scrub cap sat askew on his head.

In short, he looked amazing. Joanna had to steady herself as the temperature of her crotch soared skyward. “Red Bull is perfectly safe to drink,” she retorted, and guzzled the can’s entire contents in one gulp as if to prove herself right. After swallowing, a huge, vibrating belch emanated from her mouth before she had a chance to stifle it. Harlan winced, then gave her a lopsided grin.

“Nice belch,” he said.

Joanna tossed the empty into the recycling bin. “Well, I need
something
to keep me awake.” Joanna cut a sidelong glance over at Harlan, then skipped right past him, head held high. She would not give him any opportunities to get the upper hand on her today.

Famous last words.

When Joanna reported for duty at noon, she was surprised to find the patient intake bin empty of files. The pre-op ward was strangely deserted, and all the Recovery beds were empty, too.

Joanna marched straight to Maryam Malone’s desk for an explanation. “Maryam, where did all the patient files go?”

Maryam bit her lip. “We have a bit of a situation.”

“What situation is that?”

Maryam motioned for Joanna to sit down. “The Surgery department here has been shut down by the state medical board of North Carolina until further notice.”

Joanna stared back at the older nurse, mouth agape. “Shut
down
? But why?”

Maryam shook her head. “Nobody knows, and Middleton and the rest of Administration aren’t talking.”

Joanna blew out a heavy breath of air. “When did this happen?”

“The state inspector just showed up about half an hour ago, while you were having your breakfast,” Maryam explained. “He ordered the entire Surgery department shut down immediately, and had all our cases transferred, mostly to St. Michael’s over in Durham. A few of the more serious ones just got airlifted to University Hospital in Raleigh. The last ones left just before you got down here. That’s all I know.”

Harlan burst into Maryam’s cubicle. “Where the hell are all my patients?”

Maryam repeated her story for Harlan’s benefit, then sighed. “In all my years, I’ve never once had a department shut down by a state inspector that was under
my
supervision,” she said. “Where did I go wrong? I must be getting too old for this job.”

“Whatever caused this, Maryam, I’m sure it was just a big misunderstanding,” Joanna offered, trying to sound upbeat. She glanced over at Harlan, and saw that his face had turned an alarming shade of gray.

“Excuse me, ladies,” he muttered, and went tottering down the hall.

Maryam clucked. “I’m willing to bet
he
knows something,” she said, jerking her head in Harlan’s direction. “Serves him right if he’s in some kind of trouble with the state review board, the jerk.”

Joanna worked hard to keep her voice steady. “What makes you think
he
knows something?” Joanna asked innocently. But the pained expression on Harlan’s face a moment ago had been like a flashing neon sign. “You don’t think this has to do with him cutting himself in the OR, does it?”

Maryam shook her head. “No, I don’t believe the state would shut the entire Surgery department down just for something like that. Whatever the real reason is, I’ll try to find out. And as soon as I know, I’ll tell you. In the meantime, you should probably just go home and get some rest, Joanna. I can keep an eye on things here by myself.”

Joanna nodded, fiddling with her hands. She’d needed to get back to her condo and collect her thoughts.

****

Joanna had gathered up her belongings and was headed out to her car, still in her duty scrubs, when she encountered Harlan in the hospital parking garage. Her stomach lurched when she saw him, but not in a bad way. More like in an
arousing
kind of way.

Harlan had changed out of his scrubs into a well-worn pair of jeans and a beige golf shirt. He was leaning against the concrete half-wall at the far end of the parking garage, staring out across the front lawn of the hospital at the shadowy lines of the Blue Ridge Mountains in the distance. He seemed transfixed by the view, almost in a trance. Joanna was almost afraid to approach him, but the warming sensation in her belly and groin involuntarily pulled her body towards his.

Joanna stopped short about a foot away from Harlan. He didn’t seem to notice her approach. She studied his neck and back, the contours of his shoulders, the firm curve of his buttocks. Her gaze ran all the way down his backside to his bare ankles—his feet were shoved, sockless, into his worn sneakers—and back up again until her eyes rested on the nape of his neck. She inspected each and every one of the short, sandy wisps of hair along the bottom of his hairline, saw how they whorled into a perfect arrow that pointed down to the exact center of his shoulderblades. She gazed intently at the back of each of his earlobes, saw how they both had tiny dimples in them, how they were both attached to the sides of his neck. For some crazy reason she felt like encasing both of those earlobes between her lips, felt like sucking them, felt like running her tongue around and around the grooves and arches of his ears. Joanna became lost in the imagined sensations Harlan’s body inspired in her, and soon the line between what was imaginary and what was real became blurred. His mere presence caused Joanna’s nether parts to swell, to moisten, to scream for his touch, his lips, his tongue. A mewling whimper escaped Joanna’s throat as she stood lost in the pleasures of her fantasy.

Harlan spun around. “Joanna,” he said, his voice low, almost like velvet. “I—I didn’t know you were here.”

Joanna froze. She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t even breathe.

“Joanna, all you all right?”

She managed a small nod. To her surprise, Harlan took her right hand into his left one, and stroked the inside of her palm. The feel of his touch against her skin was like a million tiny bonfires filling every pore of her being.

“Joanna, I’ve been less than honest with you. With everyone, in fact.” Harlan let go of her hand and turned back away from her to stare at the mountains again.

Joanna placed a timid hand on his shoulder. The feel of his body underneath her fingers sent pulsing waves of electricity through her body all the way down to her feet. “What do you mean?”

Harlan’s left hand—the uninjured one—gripped the rusty steel bar fastened to the top of the concrete half-wall that was the only thing separating him from a fall to the hospital’s concrete driveway below.

Harlan turned around again, taking her hand off his shoulder and raising it to his lips. He kissed the back of her hand, kissed each of her knuckles, and then, one by one, sucked each and every one of her fingers. Joanna felt her knees buckle out from under her. She started to fall, and Harlan caught her up in his arms.

Harlan’s mouth seized upon hers. They kissed for a full minute before Joanna broke away from him, her heart pounding between her ears, her head spinning at mach velocity.

“We can’t do this,” she gasped, leaning against the cold concrete wall. “Not here, anyway.”

“Why not?” Harlan moved to kiss her again.

Joanna backed away. “Someone will see us!”

Harlan touched the side of her face. He ran his fingertips across her cheekbone, along her jaw. His touch was like a sergeant’s command. Whatever part of her he caressed ordered her to submit to his will. It was all she could do for her mind to disobey the sensual directives of her body. “So what if they do?” he asked.

“You should already know the answer to that,” Joanna shot back. “Too many people are asking too many questions about us. It will only come back to haunt us both if anyone knows.”

“Knows what? Why do you care? We haven’t done anything wrong, Joanna. Well, maybe
I
have, but—” Harlan trailed off, stared down at the asphalt.

“But what? What do you mean?” Joanna put her index finger under Harlan’s chin, raised his head and forced him to look her in the eyes. “What have you done wrong, Harlan?”

“Joanna, do you have a few hours to spare? Because that’s at least as long as it will take to tell you about all the wrong that I have done.”