together, she rattled off her findings. Don’t screw up , she told herself. Don’t let him know this isn’t fear. Because if there was one thing he’d respect less than terror, it was lust.
****
Gupta, Anushka. She’d graduated top of her class from Penn State’s six-year program and finished an internship in New York. She was young, driven, smart, but not here for the actual medicine…just the M.D. He knew the type. He didn’t have time for the type. Especially when the type was quaking in her shoes and staring up at him with big, dark doe eyes. Good God, he wanted to tell her, I’m not the Big Bad Wolf. I’m not going to eat you.
Only that wasn’t precisely true. Gupta, comma, Anushka—Anu, he’d heard the other cardio residents call her—was very, very edible. Her flawless skin was scrubbed clean of makeup and her coal-black hair pulled back in a practical ponytail, but there was no denying she was gorgeous. Petite, slim, but not skinny, she made a pair of utilitarian green scrubs look as appealing as a cocktail dress. He was almost disgusted with himself for noticing. Hot female residents, especially Indian ones, were a dime a dozen. Ninety percent of them were riding on Grey’s Anatomy -style delusions of landing their own Dr. McDreamy. He’d learned, years ago, to keep his McDreaminess out of the workplace. Unfortunately, he hadn’t thought to change his last name too.
Vince stifled a grimace, forcing his attention back to Dr. Gupta…which, as he’d realized, wasn’t that difficult a task.
“…so, the patient’s pulse was erratic, but there were no signs of arrhythmia. We’re going to monitor her for the next few hours.” She finished up her summary, and he was mildly impressed that she did so on a strong, confident note. The quaver in her voice was gone, and the color had returned to her cheeks. Patient is not going to die of fright .
“Does that meet with your approval, Dr. McHenry?” she asked, lifting her chin and actually glaring a little.
“That’ll be fine, Dr. Gupta,” he responded, with equal bite. “See that you stay on top of things. We don’t have time to dick around.”
“No. You save that for the girls at Mercy.”
All the color she’d gotten back suddenly leached from her face.
“Did I say that out loud?”
“Yes. Yes, you did.” Vince knew he was supposed to look thunderous, forbidding, like the wrathful god that everyone thought he was, but he was too busy trying not to laugh. Bravo , Dr. Gupta . Only the nurses, who ruled each floor with iron fists, ever talked to him this way. No one else dared question his authority, his extracurricular activities, or even whether his socks matched. But Little Red Riding Hood, for whatever reason, had let her real opinion of him slip. Would wonders never cease?
“Aren’t you going to apologize?” he wondered, injecting his voice with a modicum of warning…more for show than because he was truly offended.
“I’m so—” she began, only to stop and shake her head. Her fingers were tight around the chart, knuckles pale, but she wasn’t afraid of him. That wasn’t what was driving her. “You know what? No, I’m not sorry. It’s the truth, Dr. McHenry. You do dick around, and I did my job and don’t deserve to be spoken to that way.”
Vince’s estimation of her went up another notch. Along with it came an unfortunate side effect. It was sudden, striking fast—a jarring rush of heat and need and wondering if her frowning mouth would taste as spicy as her words. He wanted her. She was all of twenty-six years old, nearly twenty years younger than he, and he had no business feeling like a horny kid just because she’d talked back to him. But there it was. Plain as day. He swallowed hard, fisting his hands in the pockets of his lab coat and narrowing his gaze. “If you’re so adept at doing your job, doctor , I suggest you get back to it. Unless you have more insights about my activities with the women at
****
Gupta, Anushka. She’d graduated top of her class from Penn State’s six-year program and finished an internship in New York. She was young, driven, smart, but not here for the actual medicine…just the M.D. He knew the type. He didn’t have time for the type. Especially when the type was quaking in her shoes and staring up at him with big, dark doe eyes. Good God, he wanted to tell her, I’m not the Big Bad Wolf. I’m not going to eat you.
Only that wasn’t precisely true. Gupta, comma, Anushka—Anu, he’d heard the other cardio residents call her—was very, very edible. Her flawless skin was scrubbed clean of makeup and her coal-black hair pulled back in a practical ponytail, but there was no denying she was gorgeous. Petite, slim, but not skinny, she made a pair of utilitarian green scrubs look as appealing as a cocktail dress. He was almost disgusted with himself for noticing. Hot female residents, especially Indian ones, were a dime a dozen. Ninety percent of them were riding on Grey’s Anatomy -style delusions of landing their own Dr. McDreamy. He’d learned, years ago, to keep his McDreaminess out of the workplace. Unfortunately, he hadn’t thought to change his last name too.
Vince stifled a grimace, forcing his attention back to Dr. Gupta…which, as he’d realized, wasn’t that difficult a task.
“…so, the patient’s pulse was erratic, but there were no signs of arrhythmia. We’re going to monitor her for the next few hours.” She finished up her summary, and he was mildly impressed that she did so on a strong, confident note. The quaver in her voice was gone, and the color had returned to her cheeks. Patient is not going to die of fright .
“Does that meet with your approval, Dr. McHenry?” she asked, lifting her chin and actually glaring a little.
“That’ll be fine, Dr. Gupta,” he responded, with equal bite. “See that you stay on top of things. We don’t have time to dick around.”
“No. You save that for the girls at Mercy.”
All the color she’d gotten back suddenly leached from her face.
“Did I say that out loud?”
“Yes. Yes, you did.” Vince knew he was supposed to look thunderous, forbidding, like the wrathful god that everyone thought he was, but he was too busy trying not to laugh. Bravo , Dr. Gupta . Only the nurses, who ruled each floor with iron fists, ever talked to him this way. No one else dared question his authority, his extracurricular activities, or even whether his socks matched. But Little Red Riding Hood, for whatever reason, had let her real opinion of him slip. Would wonders never cease?
“Aren’t you going to apologize?” he wondered, injecting his voice with a modicum of warning…more for show than because he was truly offended.
“I’m so—” she began, only to stop and shake her head. Her fingers were tight around the chart, knuckles pale, but she wasn’t afraid of him. That wasn’t what was driving her. “You know what? No, I’m not sorry. It’s the truth, Dr. McHenry. You do dick around, and I did my job and don’t deserve to be spoken to that way.”
Vince’s estimation of her went up another notch. Along with it came an unfortunate side effect. It was sudden, striking fast—a jarring rush of heat and need and wondering if her frowning mouth would taste as spicy as her words. He wanted her. She was all of twenty-six years old, nearly twenty years younger than he, and he had no business feeling like a horny kid just because she’d talked back to him. But there it was. Plain as day. He swallowed hard, fisting his hands in the pockets of his lab coat and narrowing his gaze. “If you’re so adept at doing your job, doctor , I suggest you get back to it. Unless you have more insights about my activities with the women at
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