Dating Dr Delicious

“His hemoglobin is low at ten,” one of the nurses reported. “And he’s not oxygenating very well, either, with a PO two of seventy-eight.”

“Transfuse two units of blood now, and then make sure he has four units of blood on hand at all times.”

“I bet he’s bleeding from a liver laceration,” Hannah said.

“Why do you think that? Why not his spleen?” he challenged.

“His spleen could be the source of his bleeding, but he was on the driver’s side and wearing his seat belt, which means most of the pressure would have been on the right side, over his liver.” Hannah kept her gaze focused on the bloody drainage coming out of the peritoneal catheter as she spoke. “If the injury had been lower, his bowel might be affected, but in that case, we’d likely see intestinal contents mixed in with the blood.”

As much as it annoyed him, he agreed with her. “Yes, we would.”

“So he might need a liver resection?” Hannah asked.

“Possibly, but that depends on the source of the bleeding. Could be a blood vessel and not the organ itself.” He glanced at the nurse. “Where’s the chest X-ray?”

“Right here, Dr. Holt.”

Jake glanced at the chest X-ray one of the nurses pulled up on the computer monitor at the bedside. He frowned and gestured to it. “And what do you see here?”

“A pneumothorax in the right lower lobe.” Hannah finally looked directly at him, her blue gaze seriously intent. “He needs a chest tube before he goes to the O.R.”

“Have you done one?”

There was the slightest hesitation. “I’ve assisted with one,” she murmured.

He was tempted to put the damn thing in himself, but this was a teaching institution and he was obligated to at least give her a chance. “I’ll talk you through it,” he said.

Hannah was already getting the supplies ready. Once the chest-tube insertion tray was open and ready to go, Hannah prepped the right side of their patient’s chest and then picked up the scalpel. She made a one-inch incision between the fourth and fifth ribs, but it was too shallow.

“You’ll need to go deeper in order to get through the cartilage,” he instructed, coming up behind her, to once again peer over her shoulder as she worked.

He hadn’t known who she was when he’d helped her intubate this very same patient, but now it seemed as if every one of his senses were on red alert. Being this close was difficult. The familiar vanilla scent of her skin tormented him.

He watched as she took a deep, bracing breath and then ran the blade through the incision again, going deeper this time. Then she used the tip of her finger to make sure the opening went all the way through. Using the trocar, she inserted the chest tube into the opening.

“Suture it in place,” he said, forcing himself to step back. Distance. He needed to keep as much distance as possible. “We don’t want that tube coming out on the trip to the O.R.”

“Will do.” The look of satisfaction on her face almost made him want to smile. Almost. “Will I get a chance to scrub in on this case with you?” she asked.

The softening he’d felt toward her quickly evaporated. This was exactly what she’d wanted, wasn’t it? This was why she’d set him up at the marina bar, Shipwrecked, and had flirted with him.

Because she’d wanted to advance her career. He could see the plan she’d formulated in her mind—get intimate with the attending and receive special treatment.

“Not this time, Dr. Stewart,” he said bluntly, even though in reality this was the best procedure for an intern to scrub in on. But too bad. He needed an assistant, but he’d get Richard to come into the O.R. with him.

The flash of surprised hurt in her gaze almost made him change his mind. But she forced a smile. “I understand.”

Did she? Because he sure as hell didn’t.

Images flashed through his mind, the way he’d taken her frantically up against the wall. And then again, when he’d gently tossed her onto his bed and she’d laughed.

Damn, but she was beautiful. So full of life. A breath of fresh air compared to the other women he’d tried to go out with since the fiasco with Allie. The moment he’d seen Hannah, the instant flare of attraction had stunned him speechless.

Discovering she’d played him for a fool was a cruel twist of fate.

“I’ll just observe, then,” she continued, as if he wasn’t in the middle of an internal war.

“Fine.” He turned to find Richard, knee deep in assisting the other intern, Andrea Barkley, with a full-blown trauma resuscitation on their second patient. He scowled. What in the hell had happened? The patient had been stable last time he’d checked. But as he watched for a few minutes, he knew that he couldn’t drag Richard away from this case. Not now.

Resigned, he turned back to Hannah. “Actually, I will need your help in the O.R. after all.”

“Really? Thank you!” she exclaimed earnestly, her eyes bright with excitement.

For a moment he railed at the unfairness of it all. She looked so enticing. So eager to learn. He tore his gaze away with an effort, and then turned his attention back to his patient. If he could get the internal bleeding under control, this guy would make it.

This should be his priority right now. Saving James Turkow’s young life. Not worrying about Hannah’s ulterior motives for sleeping with him.

One month, he thought grimly. He’d be forced to work with her for one month. Surely he could manage to keep his professional distance from her for a measly thirty days.

* * *

Hannah was proud at how well she managed to hide her internal emotional turmoil as she assisted Jake in doing the exploratory lap on their blunt-trauma patient.

Concentrating on the surgical technique he employed wasn’t easy, especially the way his sexy voice, as he gave instructions, filled her head.

Listening to him speak in a low tone reminded her of their night together. And she had to block her emotional reaction to him as she concentrated on what he was doing.

“See? Here’s the grade-four liver laceration,” Jake said, gently moving the intestines aside to show her the extent of the injury.

“Looks like the bleeding has stopped,” she murmured.

“Yes. For now. We’ll have to keep a close eye on this, though, to make sure it doesn’t start bleeding again. The liver plays a role in the body’s ability to clot.”

Hannah made a mental note to check their patient’s anticoagulation status as soon as they finished.

“Irrigate the abdominal cavity and let me know when you think we’re ready to close.”

She nodded and squirted normal saline, watching the surgical tech as she suctioned out the abdomen. When the fluid came back clear, she glanced up at Jake. “I think Mr. Turkow is ready to be closed now.”

His gaze over the top of his surgical mask met hers. “I agree. Nice job.”

His praise shouldn’t mean that much to her, but it did. She was thankful for the fact that her surgical mask covered a good part of her face so he couldn’t see how she was blushing.

Jake began closing the abdomen, explaining the different layers as he did the work. When he got to the last layer of skin, he paused and glanced at her. “Do you want to do the final closing?”

She caught her breath. She was so lucky to have this opportunity. “Yes, I would.” When he slapped the pickups into her hand, she took the instrument and then carefully picked up the needle. Of course her sutures took twice as long as he’d taken to do his, but when she’d finished, she was proud of her work.

She couldn’t seem to wipe the smile off her face as they left the surgical suite. She’d assisted with her very first surgery. Hopefully the first of many.

“Hannah?” When Jake called her name, she stopped and glanced back at him over her shoulder. He wasn’t smiling.

“Yes?” Her stomach clenched with a sudden attack of nerves and she had to work hard to make sure none of her uncertainty showed on her face.

“Could I have a word with you?” he asked, stripping off his surgical mask and throwing it into the nearest trash can.

“Ah, sure. Of course.” Her stomach tightened as she finished washing up at the sink, her mind spinning with possibilities. What on earth did he want to talk to her about? Their night together? The way she’d sneaked out on him? Was he still holding a grudge about that?

Or was this professional? Had she done something wrong in the O.R. that he hadn’t wanted to point out in front of the rest of the team? The anesthesiologist had remained in the room, along with the scrub nurse and circulating nurse, for the entire case.

“This way,” he murmured, taking her arm and steering her toward the surgeons’ lounge. Her nervousness spiked upward several notches when he shut the door behind them for privacy.

When he just stood there, staring at her, she couldn’t take the silence. “You were brilliant in there, saving Mr. Turkow’s liver like that,” she said quickly. “Thanks for giving me the opportunity to assist. I’ll gladly close anytime you give me the chance. I’m sure I’ll learn a lot from working with you.” She knew she was babbling but she couldn’t seem to help it.

“Stop it,” he said sharply. She sucked in a breath at the flash of anger in his dark chocolate eyes. “You knew exactly who I was when we met down at the marina, so stop acting the part of the starry-eyed intern, grateful for a chance to operate.”

“What?” She could feel her cheeks flood with heated embarrassment. Dear God, how could he possibly think she’d engineered their meeting on purpose? Why on earth would she? On her first day of freedom she’d gone sailing on Lake Michigan with her roommate, Margie. Afterward, they’d headed over for a drink at a bar called Shipwrecked. She’d had no idea who Jake was when he’d approached her. The instant physical attraction sizzling between them had been something she’d heard about but never experienced firsthand.

She wished now that she’d ignored him. But she hadn’t. She’d been in a celebratory mood and had flung caution aside to go home with him.

And now they would be forced to work together.

The way he glared at her fueled her temper. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she snapped back. “If I recall correctly, you weren’t wearing a sign that said Chief of Trauma Surgery: Chicago Care Hospital across your chest when we met. How could I possibly know who you were? Today was my very first day taking care of patients.”

“I’m sure you recognized me from the welcome reception on Friday night,” he said, refusing to give an inch. “I don’t blame you for wanting to advance your career, but, really, sleeping with me was a bit over the top, don’t you think?”

Horrified, she gaped at him. He was serious! He actually thought she’d planned the whole thing? Talk about having a healthy ego. “No, in fact, I wasn’t able to attend the welcome reception. But you know what? I’m sorry I didn’t because if I had attended the reception I would have known exactly who you were and I could have avoided this embarrassment altogether. Trust me, if I had one inkling of who you were, I would never have, you know...” She stopped her frantic babbling with an effort. Enough already!

There was no way to salvage this. Better to just move forward from here, find some way to regain a sense of professionalism.

“You really expect me to believe you didn’t know who I was?” he asked in a skeptical tone.

She lifted her chin. She hadn’t gotten this far in her career without the ability to stand up for herself. “You can believe whatever you want, Dr. Holt,” she said coolly. “It doesn’t matter to me one way or the other. As far as I’m concerned, we can pretend that unfortunate situation never happened.” His eyes narrowed as if her comment stung. Hanging on to her composure wasn’t easy. “I worked really hard to earn a spot in this residency, and I will not do anything to mess that up. So are we clear on that subject? Or do we need to beat it to death some more?”

The flash of uncertainty in his gaze gave her a small sense of satisfaction. And for a moment she desperately wished things could be different. If only Jake wasn’t so darned gorgeous. And sexy. And the damn freaking chief of trauma surgery! Of all the guys to fall into bed with, she’d had to pick this one! Trust her to screw up her last night of freedom. No pun intended.

He lifted a shoulder, as if he didn’t care one way or the other. “Fine. Consider the night forgotten.”

The sudden sense of loss caught her off guard. For some reason she was thoroughly annoyed he’d given in so easily.

Of course, this was exactly what she wanted. Right? Right. She forced a tight smile. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

She frowned and narrowed her gaze. Was that a sexual innuendo? No, of course it wasn’t. He was just being nice. Polite. Professional.

She pasted a smile on her face and turned to make her way to the lounge door. Time to put this entire incident behind her once and for all.

“Dr. Stewart?” Once again, his voice stopped her.

The formal way he addressed her was slightly reassuring. She had to stop being suspicious about every conversation. After all, they were going to be spending the entire month together. A very long month. No doubt he wanted to ask her something about their patient. “Yes?”

“I have a firm rule about never dating anyone I work with, so I truly hope you’re going to be professional about this.”

Oh, he had a rule, did he? Well, good. Being an intern was all about following rules. And why on earth did he think she wouldn’t be professional? His gall was too much. “Of course. Is there anything else? If not, I’m going to check on Mr. Turkow.”

“No, that’s all.”

His dismissive tone grated on her nerves. She headed back to the locker room, more disturbed by his parting comment than she wanted to admit. She opened her locker and retrieved her lab coat, slamming the door with more force than was necessary.

Why was she suddenly feeling as if she was the one who’d stepped out of line? As if this entire mess was her fault and her fault only? As if he hadn’t participated one little bit?

Their night together had been more his idea than hers. He’d been the one to approach her. He’d been the one to take her hand, hauling her from the bar. Granted, she hadn’t exactly fought him off, but still.

He was the one who’d suggested they go to his place! And like a fool, she’d tossed common sense aside to go with him.

Experiencing the most incredible night of passion she’d ever had in her life.

For a moment she rested her heated forehead on the cool metal locker. Their night together had affected her more than she’d realized. But she needed to get over it. She had to follow Jake’s example and strive to remain professional.

She’d worked too damn hard—served countless drinks, endured hundreds of passes, cleaned endless offices and studied for thousands of hours—to get where she was today.

As far as she was concerned, Dr. Jake Holt could pick someone else to scorch with his good looks.

CHAPTER THREE

ASSAILED by a truckload of doubt, Jake stared at the lounge door that remained closed behind Hannah, fighting the insane urge to go after her.

Had he really been wrong about her?

The horror in her eyes had been too real to be faked. And the confrontation hadn’t gone at all the way he’d thought it would. She’d stood up to him. Tossed his accusations back at him. And she hadn’t thrown herself into his arms, begging for forgiveness.

The way Allie had, once he’d discovered her true motives for going out with him.

No, Hannah had almost looked hurt. Claiming that if she’d known who he was, she wouldn’t have gone anywhere near him. And he’d sensed that much at least was the truth.

The desolate sense of loss surprised him.

He took a deep breath and shoved the wave of self-doubt aside. Did it really matter if Hannah was telling the truth? No, because that fact changed nothing. She was still an intern in the residency program and he was still the chief of trauma surgery.

He’d learned the hard way, thanks to Allie, the perils of dating someone who worked at the same hospital. Someone you were forced to see almost every day. Where everyone knew everyone else’s business.

If he’d been smart, he would have left Minneapolis a long time ago. But he’d refused to run away. He’d taken this job because it was a promotion. Not because he couldn’t take the constant churning of the rumor mill.

In the privacy of the lounge, he let down his guard and scrubbed his hands over his face. Flirting with Hannah, buying her a drink and then spending the night with her had been completely out of character. He knew a good portion of the reason he’d acted so impulsively was due to his sheer determination to make a fresh start.

A new career in a new city, and a steadfast resolve to leave his old baggage behind once and for all. Recklessly, he’d responded to the instant attraction he’d felt with Hannah. Seeing her sailing, and meeting her at the lakeshore bar, he’d never imagined she might be connected to the hospital in some way. And he’d been secretly thrilled when she’d agreed to go home with him. They’d shared an incredible night together.

His intention of putting his past behind him and moving forward had backfired in a big way. Somehow, he’d only managed to complicate his life even further, by sleeping with his intern.

With a sigh, Jake stood and stalked out of the lounge. There was no reason to dwell on the mistake he’d made with Hannah. The more he thought about it, the more he realized she’d likely remain professional. After all, she’d been the one to sneak out that morning.

And she’d also insisted they act as if their night together had never happened.

Maybe her ability to brush him aside annoyed the hell out of him, but he was determined to remain thankful she wasn’t clinging to some ridiculous romantic notion that they were meant to be together forever.

He’d gone down that path with Allie, only to discover he couldn’t have been more wrong. After swearing off women, he’d opened his heart to Allie, only to have it ripped from his chest and stomped on. He’d managed to put his life back on track, although it hadn’t been easy.

No matter how attracted he’d been to Hannah, he wasn’t about to get hurt or be made a fool of ever again.

Satisfied that he’d wrenched Hannah out of his system, he headed to the recovery area to check on Mr. Turkow. Of course, Hannah was there, poring over the patient’s lab work. Trying to ignore her was harder than he’d anticipated, seemingly aware of every breath she took as he quickly reviewed their patient’s vitals for himself.

“He looks stable,” Hannah said. “Do you want him to go to a regular surgical floor or the ICU?”

“Definitely the ICU. You’ll need to keep a close eye on him as the next few hours are critical. He could easily continue bleeding or come down with an infection.”

“Understood,” Hannah agreed. He shouldn’t have been annoyed at her level of professionalism. “Do you want me to write the admission orders?”

He nodded, knowing he’d have time to review the orders himself, later. “And make sure to call me if there are any significant changes or if you need something.”

“Of course. I’m on call tonight, so I’ll be able to check him frequently.”

He froze. What? She was the intern on call tonight?

Perfect. That was just perfect. Because he was the attending on call tonight, too.

Did he have a black cloud hanging over his head, or what?

His pager went off. Grateful for the interruption, he glanced down to read the message from Richard, who was requesting his help in the O.R. “I have to go,” he said, avoiding Hannah’s gaze. “I’ll be in the O.R. if you need anything.”

As he scrubbed in, he couldn’t help thinking about how he’d be forced to spend the entire night with Hannah. One of the first changes he’d made as the new chief of trauma was to require that the attending physicians stayed in-house 24/7. His colleagues hadn’t been thrilled with the new requirement, but he knew that having the attending physicians readily available for trauma resuscitations and for emergency surgeries would improve their patients’ outcomes. He’d been brought in to make sure Chicago Care didn’t lose its precarious level-one trauma verification, which was scheduled to be reviewed in just six weeks. This was the first step toward reaching that goal.

So he’d made the decision and had agreed to do the first week of call. In fact, he’d taken the first week and the last week in July to be on call, since it was their busiest month with trauma patients.

Drying his hands on the sterile towels the circulating nurse provided, the impact of his decision hit him squarely in the chest. Two weeks of call in July meant he’d be working with Hannah often.

Too often.

Since avoiding her would be next to impossible, he’d have lots of practice keeping their relationship professional.

With grim determination, he could only hope he’d succeed in that goal, too.

* * *

Hannah couldn’t believe how fast her day went. Overall she thought she’d done fairly well in keeping things on a cool, professional level with Jake.

Dr. Holt. She really needed to start thinking of him as Dr. Holt.

She’d given Mr. Turkow another two units of blood and his condition had stabilized nicely. She’d also given the orders for the nurses to wean Mr. Turkow from the ventilator after she’d verified that his lungs were fully inflated following his pneumothorax. When it was time to extubate him, she called Jake just to make sure she was on the right track. Jake had immediately come up to the ICU to review everything she’d done for the patient, before agreeing with her plan.

“You’ll need to be ready to make rounds with me in fifteen minutes,” he said in a curt tone.

“Rounds?” she repeated, a little confused. Generally the surgical teams made rounds first thing in the morning. Not five o’clock in the evening.

He looked her straight in the eye. “You said you’re taking first call tonight, right?” When she nodded, he continued, “I’m the attending on call tonight as well and we need to see every patient on service so you understand my expectations.”

Oka-a-a-y, now she understood. Wasn’t it just her luck that he was the attending on call? As if it wasn’t difficult enough working with him during the day? She made sure her dismay didn’t show. “Of course. Do you want to meet in the ICU first?” Logically, she thought starting with the sickest patients made the most sense.

“No, we’ll start on the general surgical floor. The ICU patients are going to take longer to review as their medical needs are more complicated, so I generally leave them for last.”

She took a deep breath and nodded. So much for her logic. She felt as if she was fighting an uphill battle to earn Jake’s respect as a physician. Refusing to let her nervousness show, Hannah pulled out her new pack of three-by-five note cards and prepared to take good notes. As a medical student she’d learned the trick of putting each patient on a card and using them as a reference throughout the night.

Although this was the first time she’d be the one responsible for making the medical decisions. Decisions that Jake would use as a basis to critique her performance. She ignored a flutter of panic.

Actually, it was good news that the attending surgeon, even if it was Jake, would be in house all night. At least she would have backup if she got in over her head. For some reason, every time she looked for Richard, the senior resident, he was busy elsewhere.

She would have felt completely alone if not for Jake.

After copying Mr. Turkow’s information on a card, she hurried out to the general trauma surgical floor to meet Jake. Dr. Holt.

She should have been glad that he treated her like any other resident in the program, but as they made rounds on the patients, talking to the nurses and reviewing their charts, she couldn’t seem to stop searching his gaze for some sign of—what? She didn’t really know. Recognition? Acknowledgement? Support? Camaraderie?