Hot Bodies Boxed Set: The Complete Vital Signs Erotic Romance Trilogy

by Hughes, Jill Elaine

  Harlan grumbled something to himself and sighed. “Fine. Go ahead.”

  “We need privacy. I don’t want one of the techs walking in here and overhearing.”

  Harlan motioned to the glassed-in office the post-op technician used for filling out paperwork. It was empty, and it had a door that locked. They both stepped inside, and Harlan shut and locked the door behind them. “All right, Joanna, out with it. What the hell is your problem now?”

  Her dark eyes flashed fire. “Harlan, if you ever behave that way in the OR again, I swear to God, I will call the state medical board myself and tell them to revoke your license to practice medicine.”

  Harlan’s jaw dropped. “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  “Yes, I did, Joanna. I just don’t believe it, is all. How can you stand there and say something like that to me? You’re my wife, for Chrissakes.”

  “Yes, I am your wife. Which is precisely the reason why I’m telling you to your face what I’m prepared to do to protect you from yourself.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  Joanna took a deep breath, blew it out. She narrowed her eyes at Harlan, but never once took them off him. “Harlan, our marriage might be falling apart, but that doesn’t mean you can act like a raging incompetent asshole and put patients’ lives at risk in the OR. What would have happened if I’d handed you that scalpel without making eye contact and you’d dropped it? You’ve already dropped one scalpel on my watch, Harlan, and look what happened. You cut yourself and it almost ended your career. Do you want that to happen again? Do you?”

  “Joanna—“

  “I’m not finished. We might be at each others’ throats all the time at home, but that doesn’t give us the right to let it spill over into our work. Peoples’ lives depend on us, Harlan. I would think someone like you would know that better than anyone.”

  “Joanna—“

  “Harlan, mark my words, if you ever pull that crap on me—or anyone else—again, there will be hell to pay. Do you understand?”

  Harlan didn’t reply. He just hardened his jaw and shuffled back and forth on his feet, stewing in his own juices. He understood, all right. Because he knew Joanna well enough to understand that she wouldn’t bullshit him on something like this. She was dead serious, and not just about what had happened back in the OR. She was serious about something else, too.

  Joanna had said she wanted to protect Harlan from himself. Which meant that she still cared at least a little bit about him. It was enough to give him hope. Of what, he had no idea. Hell, maybe it just meant she was that much closer to divorcing him. What woman wouldn’t be at this point? He’d become too damn volatile for even tough-as-nails Joanna Watson to handle.

  “Well?” Joanna snapped. “What do you have to say about that?”

  Harlan shrugged and bit his lip. He was at a loss for words. After all, it wasn’t every day that your wife threatened to get your medical license revoked. Finally, he spoke. “I’ll see you back in the OR in fifteen minutes,” he said, his voice flat and businesslike. “Next operation’s a bunion, the one after that’s an appendix. Boring as boring gets. So I doubt we’ll run into any more problems today.”

  Joanna blinked at that vague, noncommittal reference to the huge—and potentially dangerous—mistake he’d just committed back in the OR. Obviously that was the closest thing to an apology she was going to get. But then again, she knew better than to expect Dr. Harlan Wilkinson to ever admit he was wrong.

  But that didn’t mean she wasn’t ready and willing to admit it herself. It seemed pretty obvious that she had been wrong about her husband. About a lot of things, in fact.

  Joanna turned on her heel and stomped off towards the women’s locker room to shower and dress for the next procedure. She had two more operations to suffer through with Harlan in the OR, and she wasn’t sure she was going to make it through without breaking down and crying.

  Five

  Starla strode down the hallway, her stomach churning. She couldn’t get out of that locker room fast enough. Instead of enjoying the afterglow with Billy even for the briefest of moments, the instant they were done fucking, Starla couldn’t stand the sight of him. And she had no idea why. Billy Hartzell was plenty easy on the eyes, after all—in his clothes or out of them. But as soon as the boy opened his mouth, there were problems. He was great as far as a quickie standup fuck was concerned, but once he started to get all lovey-dovey on her afterward, it spoiled all the fun and had her searching for the exit.

  Starla usually never had to worry about postcoital regrets or embarrassment. But this time around, things were different. Most young men would be thrilled at the opportunity to get some hot, nostrings-attached sex. But it seemed that Billy Hartzell was different, and in more ways than one. Not only was he drop-dead-gorgeous, he was sentimental, too. And Starla Berring didn’t do sentimental. Unlike most women, she had no use for emotional attachments with her sex partners. When it came to sex, she got in, she scratched an itch, and she got out. End of story. Which made her every young-hot-and-single man’s dream woman.

  Every one except Billy Hartzell, that is. Billy Hartzell was clearly looking for more than just the occasional standup shower fuck. That made things complicated. And Starla wasn’t looking for complicated right now. She already had way too many things in her life that were way too complicated. When it came to getting laid, Starla needed to keep things simple. And it was pretty clear that getting involved with Billy would be anything but.

  Still, the sex with him was good. Very good. She could sure get used to having that huge, luscious cock of his thrust into her three or four times a week. Maybe more. There had to be a way to keep the man interested in fucking her without getting emotionally involved. Had to be. He was a man, after all. And as Starla’s mother had told her too many times to count, men were only good for one thing. All she would have to do was figure out a way to keep him interested in her physically—without him actually liking her as a person.

  Hmph. Easier said than done. Starla didn’t have the slightest idea how to go about it. When it came to her sex life, her partners’ personalities or feelings had never really come up before now. She didn’t quite know what to do about it. Still, if there ever was a man worth getting emotionally entangled with, it was Billy Hartzell. Men like him just didn’t waltz into Statesville every day, after all. Maybe it was time for Starla to finally break her steadfast nostrings-attached rule and have a real relationship for a change. . .

  No. No way. Not in this lifetime. Starla heard her mother’s voice ringing inside her head, scolding her, reminding her of the lesson she’d instilled in her daughter’s head practically since birth. Men are only good for one thing, Starla. Sperm. And getting that sperm out of them was the best part. Hell, it was the only thing worth pursuing. Everything else was just a waste of time and energy.

  Or so she tried to convince herself. Because even though it went against everything that she stood for, Starla could already feel herself falling for Billy Hartzell. Which if it really happened, would be a complete and total disaster. She couldn’t let that happen, she just couldn’t. Starla had to nip this right in the bud, and fast.

  Starla tried to clear her head of all the conflicting thoughts. She wasn’t going to waste another minute thinking about Billy Hartzell. At least, not today. She’d had her fifteen minutes of fun, and thanks to Billy’s nice thick cock and her refreshing little orgasm, chances were good she wouldn’t have to think about Billy again for at least a couple of days.

  Starla had plenty of more important things to think about right now, anyway. Like how she was going to make it through another long and drudge-filled day at her job without losing her mind. She rued the day that she decided to become a nurse just because it guaranteed her job security and a good salary. She’d honestly believed it didn’t matter that she hated needles and the sight of blood made her nauseous, as long as she was paid well. How could she have been so stupid? Could s
he possibly hate her job more than she already did?

  She was about to find out.

  Starla walked up to the duty desk and to check in with Maryam Malone about the rest of her day’s assignments. Maryam was sitting in front of her computer looking something up on Wikipedia and didn’t notice her at first. Starla knew that Maryam only spent about half her time on the hospital computer actually working—the rest of the time she spent either looking up gossip about her favorite TV and movie stars or playing Minesweeper. Sure enough, Maryam was reading Brad Pitt’s Wikipedia page, searching for the latest gossip about his rocky relationship with Angelina Jolie.

  “Hiya, Maryam, whatcha doing?”

  Maryam looked up with a start and immediately shut down her Internet Explorer window. “Uhhh, nothing,” she lied. “Just going over the duty roster.”

  “You know, TMZ.com has way better information on Brangelina than Wikipedia. Half the stuff on Wikipedia is totally wrong, anyway. I don’t know why you’re even looking at it.”

  Maryam blushed beet-red. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You can’t fool me, Maryam,” Starla said. “You think I don’t know who keeps pilfering all the copies of Us and Life & Style out of the waiting room? When it comes to celebrity gossip, you’re addicted. Especially when it comes to Brangelina.”

  “Don’t call them that!” Maryam snapped. “Their proper names are Brad and Angelina. And they are so much in love. They are very, very happy together.”

  “Oh really? And if that’s true, why don’t you and the rest of the world just leave them alone instead of following and analyzing their every move?”

  Maryam blushed deeper. “Well—“

  “Aw, forget about it, Maryam. I really shouldn’t tease you so much.” Starla flashed a grin at the older woman and patted her on the shoulder.

  “No, you shouldn’t,” Maryam twittered. “Especially considering the fact I have the authority to fire you.”

  “But you won’t fire me, will you?”

  Maryam sighed. “No, I won’t. I like you too much, Starla. And even if I wanted to fire you, the nursing shortage is so damn bad in these parts I’d never get anyone to replace you. Why do you think we finally had to break down and hire a man to do the grunt work around here? Not that I mind. That Billy Hartzell boy’s the prettiest thing I’ve laid eyes on in years.”

  Starla sucked in her breath. She’d sauntered over to Maryam’s desk to forget about Billy for awhile—not get yet another reminder of how much she had the hots for him. It wasn’t going to be easy getting the guy out of her head. “Oh, he’s okay I guess,” Starla said in as bland a voice as possible, and shrugged.

  Maryam raised an eyebrow. “Just okay, huh? That’s funny. A couple hours ago you were going on and on about how you wanted to take him home and cover him in Hershey’s syrup.”

  Starla shrugged again. “A girl can change her mind, can’t she?”

  That didn’t satisfy Maryam one bit. “Anything going on I should know about, Starla?”

  Starla shook her head, but she immediately felt herself blush.

  Maryam raised her other eyebrow. “Mind you, I’m just watching out for you, hon,” she said. “I’m not trying to get you into any trouble.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Maryam. Nothing’s going on. Nothing I can’t handle, anyway.” She needed to change the subject. “So, what am I up for the rest of the afternoon? No more surgeries, I hope.”

  Maryam clucked. “Ha. Don’t you wish. You’re due back in the OR in twenty minutes. And brace yourself, because this time Joanna and Harlan are in there together. And believe you me, that ain’t a pretty sight these days.”

  Starla shuddered. “Oh good grief. It’s bad enough just dealing with one of them at a time. Joanna always looks about three seconds away from crying, and I don’t even have to tell you how Darth Vader is.”

  Maryam winced. “No, you don’t. The less I hear about him, the better.” The older woman quickly glanced over both shoulders, then motioned for Starla to follow her into the small storage room behind the nurses’ station where they stored the extra registration forms. Once they were safely inside, Maryam shut and locked the frosted-glass door behind them. “Starla, hon, I need you to do me a favor. A big favor.”

  Starla wasn’t sure she liked where this was going. “What kind of favor?”

  Maryam bit her lip. “Well, I don’t wanna say too much, because if I do I’ll probably get into a lot of trouble. But I honestly don’t know where else to turn. You’re probably the only gal in these parts who has any hope of fixing this mess.”

  “What mess?”

  Maryam rolled her eyes. “You know exactly what mess I’m talking about. The mess between Joanna and Dr. Wilkinson. Those two are dead-set on destroying their marriage—and each other—right now, and it’s starting to affect the patients. I’m getting complaints all over the place. We need to find a way to fix things. And I think you’re just the gal to do it.”

  All the color drained from Starla’s face. “Why me? How can I fix anything? What’s going on between those two is nobody else’s business as far as I’m concerned.”

  Maryam laughed. “I can’t believe you just said that. After all Starla, you’re the Queen of Everybody Else’s Business.”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “How many relationships have you broken up with your shenanigans, Starla? All you have to do is bat your eyes in any man’s direction, he comes running like a little lost puppy, no matter who he’s with. Why don’t you work some of your magic on Dr. Wilkinson?”

  Starla frowned. “Maryam, you just told me this morning to stay the hell away from him. What gives?”

  “I know, I know. A gal can change her mind, can’t she?” Maryam cackled again as she tossed Starla’s line right back in her face.

  Starla eyed the older woman, suspicious. What was really going on here? Did Maryam really want her to break Joanna and Dr. Wilkinson up for good? Was she just pulling her leg? Or was something else going on behind the scenes she didn’t know about? For all she knew, Maryam was setting her up to be fired. Which would be very out of character for the friendly, collegial older nurse—but then again, so was pulling Starla into a closet and ordering her to have sex with an attending surgeon. Because that was what Maryam was implying she do—wasn’t it?

  “What exactly are you saying, Maryam?”

  “I’m not going to say anything directly, hon, because if I do I’ll just get into a heap of trouble. But here’s the bottom line. Joanna and Darth Vader just can’t keep tearing each other to pieces on hospital time. It’s gotta stop, one way or the other. Either they fix what’s wrong with that marriage of theirs—and frankly, I don’t see any chance of that happening—or they need to just get it over with and move on. I’ll leave the rest to your imagination.”

  “What if I refuse?”

  Now it was Maryam’s turn to shrug. “Well, since I can’t really order you to do something like this in the first place, I can’t very well do anything to you if you don’t do it. But there’ll be consequences all the same. And that goes for everybody in this hospital, staff as well as patients. When your lead surgeon and your head surgical nurse both ain’t up to speed, bad things are bound to happen. If something were to happen in that OR—and I think given the reports I’m getting it’s only a matter of time—that God forbid, ends up killing somebody, do you really want that on your conscience, Starla? Especially if you had the chance to put a stop to it beforehand and didn’t?”

  Starla’s entire body went cold. Did Maryam think that Starla was the village harlot or something? Was it really her job to spread her legs for anybody and everybody in town who might be having a problem getting laid? To the point that it was somehow her job to help maintain patient safety by helping to break up a bad marriage? Is this really what people thought of her?

  Apparently so.

  Suddenly Starla felt sick to her stomach. “Maryam, I dunno—“r />
  “I’m not gonna tell you what to do, Starla. I’m just asking that you think it over. For your own sake and mine. Do you really want to be stuck in the OR with a surgeon and a lead nurse who are arguing over scalpels with a sleeping patient between them? One of these days, a scalpel is gonna land somewhere it don’t belong, and there will be hell to pay. And I’ll give you three guesses who’ll end up getting blamed for it.”

  “Maryam—“

  “The powers that be would make for damn sure that the little people take the blame for the mistakes the big people make. And the little people in question are you an’ me. You don’t want to get fired, do you? I know I sure don’t.”

  Starla already had pretty mixed feelings about her job, so she said nothing. She just stared at the floor.

  “You aren’t sayin’ much, hon.”

  “Maryam, I’m sorry, but this is all just way over my head.”

  The older woman reached out and patted Starla on the shoulder. “I know, hon. I don’t know what I’m doing a-flappin’ my gums about it here in a supply closet in the first place. All I’m sayin’ is, we got us a mess on our hands, and if somebody don’t do something about it soon, it’s gonna be an even bigger mess. I got enough headaches to deal with on this job as it is, I don’t need any more.”

  Starla just kept staring at the floor. She fiddled with her hands, rocked back and forth on the thick soles of her Nurse Mates, and waited for Maryam’s final instructions.

  “Well, I guess I’ve wasted enough of your time, hon,” the older nurse finally said. “You best be getting down to the OR. Bunion operation. I know how much you love those.” She gave a little fake laugh, a futile attempt to break the tension.

  “Yeah, right.” Starla gave a little fake laugh of her own, and headed off towards the operating suite. She gritted her teeth and cringed every step of the way.

  Out of the frying pan, into the fire. It was all Starla could do to keep from throwing up.

  Six

  Dana Johnson stood at the scrub trough, preparing to go into the OR for the third time that afternoon. As nurse-anesthetist, she technically wasn’t required to scrub in along with the surgeons and nurses, but she always did it anyway, just to be on the safe side. You could never predict what might happen. Dana had read an anecdote back in nursing school about a nurse-anesthetist on a MASH unit in Vietnam taking over surgery duties for the attending when he got hit with a piece of shrapnel during an air assault. Not that there were a lot of air assaults going on in tranquil little Statesville, North Carolina. But you could never be too sure.