In Bed With the Boss

Georgie drew herself up to her full height, which wasn’t all that impressive without her heels, her mouth tight with barely controlled anger. ‘I know it was technically my fault but you were riding far too close to the row of parked cars,’ she said. ‘There was no need to be that close. If it hadn’t been me opening my door on you, it could just have easily been someone else.’

A flare of something diamond-hard lit his gaze as it collided with hers. ‘But it was you, Dr Willoughby,’ he said. ‘And as a doctor—not to mention a neurosurgical registrar—you should know the dangers of such reckless disregard for other road users.’

‘I wasn’t disregarding anyone,’ Georgie shot back quickly, annoyed at the way he seemed to be over-emphasising her responsibility as a trained medico. ‘I accidentally left my mobile phone in the gym so I pulled over and opened my door without thinking.’

His expression was full of cynicism as he held her defensive look. ‘You. Didn’t. Think,’ he said with a sardonic curl of his top lip. ‘That’s not exactly a quality I want in a registrar, Dr Willoughby. I would have thought someone from your distinctive medical family would have picked up that skill along the way.’

Georgie tightened her hands into fists by her sides. ‘I came here to apologise but I can see now it’s going to be pointless,’ she bit out. ‘You’re obviously going to make me pay by giving me a bad report at the end of my term with you. That’s totally unfair. I should be treated just like anyone else, in spite of what happened this morning.’

He got to his feet, the sound of his chair rolling along the floor shattering the stiff silence. ‘You could have killed me,’ he said through taut lips. ‘I could be lying under a sheet with a tag on my toe in the morgue right now because you didn’t think. Have you thought about that, Dr Willoughby?’

Georgie had and it had churned her stomach all morning, but something about his overbearing attitude made her reluctant to admit it. ‘You’re blowing this all out of proportion,’ she said. ‘You weren’t even injured.’

‘Which shows how unobservant you were at the time,’ he returned. ‘You were too keen to show off your roadside retrieval skills, weren’t you, Dr Willoughby?’

She straightened her spine even further. ‘I did what any EMST-trained medico would have done.’

His top lip curled again. ‘You have a lot to learn. And unfortunately I am the one who is assigned to teach you. I hope you know what you’re letting yourself in for.’

She sent him a sharp glare. ‘I can handle whatever you dish out, Mr Blackwood,’ she said. ‘My father warned me about men like you.’

‘Did he now?’ Ben asked with a slant of one dark brow.

‘Yes,’ she said, putting up her chin. ‘You’ve obviously got a chip on your shoulder about my background but I’ve worked damned hard to earn a place on the training scheme and I’m not going to let someone like you sabotage my career.’

‘I don’t give a flying fig about your background but I do care about the standard of care my patients are exposed to,’ he clipped out. ‘If you put one foot wrong I’m going to have to pull you into line. Do you understand?’

‘Perfectly,’ she said, her brown eyes flashing with fury. ‘Will that be all, Mr Blackwood?’

Don’t look at her mouth, Ben told himself sternly as he gripped the edge of his desk, his groin tightening in spite of everything he tried to do to stop it. He could feel the crackling energy of her body coming towards him, his nostrils flaring as the flowery fragrance of her perfume drifted his way.

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘That is all—for now. We’ll talk about your research project later.’

He watched as she spun around and stalked out with her head held high, her neat little bottom outlined by the scrubs she was still wearing,

the legs far too long for her with her feet still in theatre clogs.

Uh-oh. He inwardly winced as the door shut abruptly behind her.

He raked a hand through his hair and blew out a whooshing breath as he listened to her stomping footsteps fade into the distance.

Double uh-oh.

CHAPTER THREE

‘SO HOW was your first day?’ Rhiannon asked as Georgie came home later that evening.

Georgie tossed her bag on the sofa and clamped her hands to the sides of her head above her ears. ‘Arrrggghhhh!’

Rhiannon winced. ‘Oh, dear,’ she said. ‘That doesn’t sound so good.’

‘I cannot believe everyone thinks that man is God’s gift to the public health system,’ Georgie ranted. ‘He was insufferable!’

‘Insufferable, huh?’ Rhiannon curled up on the sofa and, tucking a cushion against her middle, waited patiently to hear the rest.

‘Yes,’ Georgie said, still pacing the floor in agitation. ‘Insufferable, arrogant, rude and … and …’

‘Nice-looking?’ Rhiannon offered helpfully.