Dr. Tempt Me - A Possessive Doctor Romance

“The whole, oh, nurses are so important bullshit. We all know what you doctors think.” She stared at me and I saw the unbridled annoyance in her expression.

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. “That’s not exactly fair.”

“Didn’t say it was.”

“Look, not all of us think nurses are useless, you know.”

“And yet you admit that some of you do?”

I threw up my hands. “Of course. There are plenty of doctors in this place that are total fucking assholes. And let me remind you that there are plenty of nurses that are inept morons, too.”

“Plenty of moron doctors.” She crossed her arms defiantly.

“I totally agree. So let’s settle this right now. Doctors are assholes and morons, and nurses are also assholes and morons. Maybe now we can set aside our tribal differences and move on?”

She let out a breath. “Fine, all right, maybe that wasn’t fair.”

“No, it wasn’t, but I get it. Nothing’s easy in this place, but let’s pretend like we’re on the same team, shall we?”

“Fine.” She leaned up against the wall and took a deep breath. “Tell me again what you heard before I showed up.”

I gave her a quick recap of the events: going into the closet to get the masks, hearing Maria’s voice echo down the hall, and catching a snippet of conversation that caught my attention. From there, I heard her mention the boss again, and writing a check, and a bag full of cash, then Fiona showed up.

“I have no clue what their game is, or who the boss is, or anything like that.”

“It seems so strange. How could she move that much money around and nobody notice?”

“That’s what I want to find out.”

Fiona grunted and walked toward the door, peering out like we might get caught. “Okay, here’s the deal. I’ll work on this with you, but we’re partners. You’re not making all the decisions, and I’m not going to do all the dirty work.”

“Understood.” I grinned at her, head tilted. “So you’re Sherlock, and I’m Watson.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“Except I’m Watson from the books. You know, a badass investigator.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Lighten up. This is going to be fun.”

“You know, weirdly enough, uncovering fraud in my place of business isn’t exactly my idea of fun.”

“You must be really boring then.”

She gave me another one of those beautiful, angry stares. I had a feeling I was going to see a lot of them.

“And another rule. We’re not making this personal. This is all about finding out what Maria’s up to and making sure she goes down for it.”

“Right, nothing personal. So I guess you don’t want to go out for drinks after work then?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Right, okay, shouldn’t have asked.”

She shook her head. “Come on. Don’t you have some other nurse you can drag around for fun?”

“That’s not really my game, you know.”

She snorted. “That’s not what I heard.”

I crossed my arms and watched her carefully. “And what did you hear?”

She looked at me for a second then shook her head. “Nothing. Never mind. Forget it.”

“Fiona.”

She walked to the door and pushed it open. “Think about what we’re doing next and get back to me. You know where I’ll be.”

I watched her walk out and felt my own anger stir in my chest.

I didn’t know what she thought about me, but I wasn’t the type to fuck my way through the nursing staff. My friend Gavin was like that, but he left the hospital a year ago, and I hadn’t heard much from him since. As far as I knew, he was still happily married.

Which was never going to happen to me. I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes, reliving one of my earliest memories, something that had happened right in a room like this. My mother, sitting on the bed with a broken arm and a black eye, my father hovering over her, his breath reeking of vodka, and the look he gave her, and the look he gave me, that spoke so loudly though nobody in that room opened their mouths: that look meant silence, all silence, or else.

It wasn’t a good memory. Most of my memories from those years were bad, but for some reason that one stood out. I could still remember the disinfectant and the way the nurse looked at my father like he was some kind of monster, but still let me and my mom leave with him when it was time to go.

No, I wasn’t the marrying type, and I wasn’t the type to sleep around at work. I got what I needed from bars and clubs, and I was always up front about what it meant to go home with me. One night, no questions asked, no bullshit in the morning—one night of fun, and nothing more. I’d had women balk at that proposition and walk away, and that was fine by me. I didn’t want anyone getting involved that wasn’t prepared for it.