Disobedient Cowboys [Lone Wolves of Shay Falls 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by J. Rose Allister

  “I’d say she’s a keeper,” the other one said.

  A warm feeling spread in Rose’s stomach. Hospital gossip was a given anywhere she went, and it was nice to hear people were receiving the temporary help well. Despite her rocky start, she was going to do just fine here.

  It was a reassuring thought.

  After waiting several beats so they wouldn’t suspect she’d overheard, Rose passed the doorway and went off to get the ice water. Halfway back, the charge nurse marched up and intercepted her. Jo Winters was a no-nonsense nurse who’d been around a while, Rose could tell. Short gray hair, a pointed nose, and a decided military air lent extra weight to every word, not to mention the woman’s overall foreboding manner.

  “Dr. Andersen is back on the phone for you,” Jo said, and she almost sounded displeased that a doctor would have the audacity to call the station and ask for a nurse. “Says he has more orders on the patient he just spoke to you about.”

  “I’ll talk to him,” Rose said. “Thank you.”

  Rose followed the woman up to the nurses’ station, and she hurried around to pick up the call. Doctors didn’t like to be kept waiting. It wasn’t until she was reaching over to pick up the call that she glanced at the man who’d just sat down at the desk not two feet away. One look at the neatly combed hair and penetrating blue eyes froze her hand mid-reach.

  “Rose,” Stephen said, flashing a paparazzi-worthy smile.

  The pitcher she’d been holding slid right out of her grip and all but exploded on his lap. Chilled water drenched the shins of her scrub pants, and worse, Stephen’s expensive-looking dress shirt and beige trousers as well.

  He jumped out of his seat, scattering ice onto the industrial gray carpet while Rose just stood there like an idiot, dumbfounded and staring at the pile of tiny cubes at her feet.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, taking her arm to steady her while he used his dress shoes to push ice away from her.

  She wanted to tell him to leave it where it was. Maybe standing in ice would help douse the flames she felt lighting up her cheeks. “That depends,” she said. “Is embarrassing clumsiness a post-concussion side effect?”

  “It can be.”

  Jo marched up, one hand propped on her hip. “What on earth? This won’t do,” she said, and while she clearly meant the mess, her dark eagle eyes landed on the hand Stephen had on Rose’s arm. He pulled it away.

  The unit secretary scrambled over, her frizzy, red curls bouncing and towels in hand. Rather than giving the latter to the soaking wet doctor and nurse, she dropped them on the floor and began dabbing furiously at the spill. “Oh, no,” the girl said. “This is brand-new carpet.”

  Stephen frowned down at her. “It’s just water. It’ll dry.”

  “I’m very sorry about this, Doctor,” Jo said, giving Rose a pointed scowl to indicate that she’d missed her apology window. “Rose is new.”

  “Yes,” Rose added, not that it would help matters now. “I’m terribly sorry, Doctor. I should have put the pitcher down before reaching for the phone.”

  He smiled. “Like I said, it’s just water. No harm done.”

  “Don’t just stand there,” Jo snapped at her. “Dr. Andersen’s still on the phone. Handle that while I get you and Dr. Williams some surgical scrubs to wear.”

  The woman marched away double-time, shaking her head.

  Rose glanced at Stephen, who was eyeing her while getting all but shoved out of the way by the secretary, who was busy scooping up ice cubes with a towel. “I’m so sorry,” Rose said to him again, and she took her phone call.

  By the time she’d finished up with Dr. Andersen, obtained a fresh pitcher of ice water, and elicited the biggest laugh she’d heard in months when Mr. Pierce saw her drenched uniform, fresh scrubs were waiting for her at the nurses’ station. One of her patients reported chest pain, however, so getting out of her cold, wet things had to wait while she administered nitroglycerin and checked the woman’s vital signs. Jo finally came into the room to chase Rose off.

  “Haven’t you changed yet?” she asked while Rose pulled the blood pressure cuff off her patient’s arm.

  “Mrs. Fiedler’s having chest pain again,” Rose answered, smiling sympathetically at the blonde woman who was lying in bed, her heavily lined forehead creased deeper with worry.

  Mrs. Fiedler was a real type-A personality who was rarely seen when she wasn’t typing away furiously on her laptop. Bringing work to the hospital during a heart attack scare wasn’t something Rose could really recommend, but the fifty-year-old was set in her ways.

  “I’ll take care of it,” Jo said. “You need to put something dry on. It looks unprofessional, running around like that.”

  And here Rose almost thought Jo had been concerned for her health.

  With a nod of thanks and a few words of encouragement to her patient, Rose went out to grab the folded pair of scrubs sitting on the counter at the nurses’ station. She risked a quick glance around before heading down the hall. Stephen had long since gone. Good. At least one positive thing had come from her utter lack of grace—she didn’t have to face Dr. Williams at the moment. She’d see him again eventually, but hopefully she could become a master of avoidance.

  A dull pounding in her temples announced the return of her headache, and she rubbed her forehead with a soft groan. Stephen’s appearance at the station shouldn’t have given her such a shock. She knew that seeing him was inevitable. That had weighed heavily in her thoughts the past few days, and she’d tried unsuccessfully to banish fantasies about the first time she would run into him again. In her fantasies, she’d been in the middle of a great hair day and faced him with the perfect amount of aloof professionalism to make him sorry he’d dumped her as a patient, while at the same time not giving the slightest indication that she cared.

  So much for that plan. She’d been running late that morning, so her hair was pulled up in a hasty, severe ponytail. The jolt of his eyes finding hers had ended any chance of establishing aloof professionalism, hadn’t it? More like it had severed all logical communication between her brain and her muscles.

  Just like it was doing now.

  She almost tripped over her own nursing clogs when she looked up and saw who was walking straight toward her. As if business clothes didn’t add enough sex appeal to the hot doctor, Stephen in baby-blue surgical scrubs was nothing short of delectable. The short sleeves showcased his striated forearms and toned biceps to nice advantage, and the V-neck of his tunic offered a glimpse of chest hair that evoked a particularly compelling memory of the last time she’d seen it. Forget trying not to stare at the hint of male goods outlined by the uniform pants, too.

  Damn, she thought. She’d have to blindfold herself around the man to keep her eyes off the visual feast he offered.

  Eager to avert another disaster, Rose quickly veered off the hallway into a large equipment room that was shared between two adjoining units. She could race past the maze of spare equipment, duck out the back, and cut through the other unit to avoid another awkward Dr. Hottie encounter.

  “Rose?”

  Or not.

  She cursed silently as she stopped at the sound of Stephen’s voice. She turned around beside a bed and forced a smile. “Did you need something, Doctor?”

  He hesitated for a moment and then wandered into the supply area. He didn’t stop until he was a scant couple of feet away—far too close for comfort. Not that she’d been comfortable with him filling the doorway, either. She resisted the urge to run, instead gripping her loaner scrubs tighter.

  “You’re still in wet clothes?” he asked.

  She held up the bundle in her hand. “I’m going to change now. I had to take care of a few things first.”

  “I saw you rubbing your head just now. You’re still having trouble with headaches, aren’t you?”

  A bubble of irritation popped in her chest, and she lifted her chin. “Considering you don’t want to be my doctor anymore, I don’t really se
e why you care.”

  Brows lowered over his impossibly deep-blue eyes. “Of course I care. Are you taking the anti-inflammatory for pain? Too much acetaminophen can cause rebound headaches.”

  Which she knew damn good and well from her training, but she hadn’t even thought of that when popping open the bottle every four hours. Still, that wasn’t the point.

  “I’ll admit I was pretty out of it the first day or two,” she said, “and that I had some pretty wild dreams mixed up in the middle of that blur. But I have a letter on my table proving that you did, in fact, show up at some point to terminate your services. Why bother if you’re just going to turn around and offer me more medical advice?”

  Now he looked sincerely puzzled as he searched her eyes with an intensity she wished to God wouldn’t dance around in her stomach. “I told you why I did it.”

  She worked her lower lip between her teeth and focused on his sleek, carved nose to avoid his eyes and the do-me-hard body she’d seen way too much of. Of all his attributes, the nose seemed like the safest place. Except that was perfect, too.

  “You don’t remember,” he said after a moment, and it wasn’t a question.

  “It’s not that.” She folded her arms, still clutching the scrubs she might never get to put on at the rate things were going. “I just don’t trust most of what I remember.”

  He took a step closer but stopped when she stiffened. “What about the part when I told you I gave you that letter in order to explore a personal relationship?”

  She swallowed. God. She hadn’t made that part up after all?

  Her attempt to dislodge panic from her throat failed. “That was one theory,” she said hoarsely.

  “Since it’s the theory that actually happened, it’s the only one that matters.”

  “Does it?” She folded her arms. “Tell me, then. When I saw you and Caleb together in my living room the next morning, was that an actual theory, too? Or one of my bizarre hallucinations?”

  His jaw quirked, but he didn’t seem particularly disturbed. “You were supposed to be asleep.”

  Her stomach lurched. “So, it did happen. I’m not crazy.”

  He sighed. “Yes. Caleb and I ‘happened.’”

  “Then I guess I’m a little confused.” She lifted her arms and glanced down at herself. “Because in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not a male.”

  His eyes flashed as they took the brief tour her gesture offered. “Trust me, I’ve noticed that quite well since the moment I saw you. That’s why I signed off on your case right away.” He leaned closer, and her stomach flipped when she saw that the golden glimmers she thought she’d imagined were again sparkling in his eyes. “And unless I’m sorely mistaken, I’d bet you felt something when you watched me with Caleb. I’d bet you found it arousing enough to wish you could join us.”

  Holy concussion, that gold in his eyes was shifting, pulsing like the throb of a heartbeat. So, the hallucinations weren’t quite finished after all.

  “And would you have let me?” she asked quietly.

  “No.”

  That dropped the bottom out of the dangerous spell his proximity was casting, and she swallowed the bitter taste of disappointment. “Then I’m back to the part where I’m confused about what you want from me.”

  He finished closing the gap between them and took hold of her defiant chin. “I wouldn’t have let you because you were hurt and needed time to recover. But believe me, every inch of me has been screaming to put you where you belong.”

  She could barely speak now, those hypnotic eyes loomed so near. “And where’s that?”

  “Right between me and Caleb.”

  His lips came down on hers with a vehemence she hadn’t expected, not that she’d expected him to kiss her at all. When he took possession of her mouth, the explosion of nerve endings was unbelievably arousing, stirring in her the same hot, immediate need she’d felt with Caleb. Whatever that accident had unleashed in her, it was scary as hell. And she never wanted it to stop.

  She dropped the scrubs on the bed behind her and slid her hands around his neck, pulling him deeper into the kiss that was rapidly overpowering all other brain functions. His gruff moan vibrated against her lips as he ran his hands along her shoulders.

  “I thought you didn’t want me,” she said. “I thought I’d just hallucinated the reason for your letter. That Caleb was the one you really wanted.”

  “Oh, Rose.” He took her hand and guided it down to a startlingly hard, long bulge between his legs. “Feel what you do to me and then tell me you think I don’t want you.”

  Two hard cocks against her in one week, neither one belonging to a patient. Her legs weakened, and the bed the backs of her knees were pressed against called out for her to pull Stephen down on it.

  The swollen, hard flesh of his erection pulsed like a living thing when she squeezed it, but her fascination with the phenomenon derailed when he slipped his tongue inside her mouth. Fireworks burst around her as she allowed her tongue free rein to dance with his. She’d never been big on kissing before. When men had tried to swap germs with her, Rose had pulled away, grossed out at the thought. But Stephen could have been patient zero of the next pandemic disaster for all she cared. He’d infected her with something far more dangerous, something that made part of her beg for him to take full command of her body right then and there.

  His hand slipped beneath her crisp tunic, his fingers skimming over her bare skin to find the curve of her breasts through her flimsy bra. A sharp gasp escaped her lips at that first grazing touch, and the jolt of it resurrected what little common sense she had left.

  She pulled her lips from his. “We shouldn’t be doing this here,” she said.

  “You’re right,” came a staunch female voice. “You shouldn’t.”

  Their heads whipped toward the doorway where Jo Winters stood, frowning. Impossibly, she looked even dourer than before while her dark eyes studied the hand groping Rose’s breast and the palm over Stephen’s dick. The pair shoved apart immediately, Stephen covering the bulge by clasping his hands in front of him. But there was no hiding what they’d done.

  “I’ve heard nothing today except what a fast worker you are, Rose,” the woman said. “I suppose, for once, the hospital rumors are true.” Her laser stare targeted Stephen next. “And I do believe she’s not just your nurse, Doctor Stephens. She’s also your patient.”

  He cleared his throat. “Dr. Jacobs was the physician of record for Miss Hartford. And you’ll see documented in her medical record that I officially signed off.”

  An utterly humorless smile quirked one side of the woman’s wrinkled mouth. “So now it’s ‘Miss Hartford.’ Interesting. I’d have been willing to bet a second ago that you two were on a first-name basis, at least.” She turned to Rose, whose sweaty fists were clenched and folded tightly over her chest. “Did you know this man before you were a patient here?”

  Rose shook her head, and Jo gave a curt sigh.

  “I came looking for you to say you’re needed at the nurses’ station, Doctor,” she said to Stephen. Then to Rose, “As for you, I very much doubt you will be needed at all once today’s shift is over. Get back to your patients until the unit manager sends for you.”

  A sick wave of nausea threatened to push bile into Rose’s throat. When neither of them made a move, however, Jo barked out, “I meant now, Miss Hartford. And you too, Doctor.”

  He stiffened. “Don’t presume to order me around because you don’t approve of my private life, nurse,” Stephen said.

  His voice had taken on the cold edge of steel, but Jo didn’t appear the least bit chastised. “Your private life has no place in the supply room of my unit. I will be writing this incident up for further inquiry.”

  That changed his tone. “It wasn’t Rose’s fault,” he said. “None of it. I’m the one who followed her in here. I initiated everything.”

  “And I’m sure administration will be happy to hear all the sordid details. Meanwhil
e, all I saw was two so-called professionals engaging in unethical behavior. Rose, every second you delay me from getting back to my duties only makes matters worse for you. So do yourself a favor and detach yourself from his side right now. I’m not walking away from here until you do.”

  Rose jumped away from Stephen as though he’d caught fire, grabbed the abandoned loaner scrubs, and hightailed it past the scowling charge nurse. Her eyes were stinging and growing blurry as she rushed for the bathroom, barely locking herself inside before the storm of tears unleashed.

  It was all she could do to change out of her still-wet scrubs, she was shaking so hard.

  “I’m going to lose my job,” she whispered to herself a couple of minutes later as she sat on the commode, fully dressed and rocking with her head in her hands. “What if the agency drops me for this?”

  Tears dripped down onto the new loaner pants, staining them with dark spots. How could she be so stupid? While her love life had never amounted to anything worth noting, her career had always been a place where she could shine. She thrived on her contribution to healing others. Her evaluation reports had never been anything but glowing. One hit on the head had turned everything upside down.

  Once she could face the mirror again, her eyes were bright red and swollen. The stranger in that reflection glowered back at her, accusing her for ruining everything. And for what? A ridiculous teenage game of two minutes in the supply closet?

  It took a while for her to pull herself together enough to return to the station, still puffy-eyed but determined to pick up the pieces of her day. Friendly faces faded into a dreary background. Most of the nurses avoided her outright. She caught occasional whispers and furtive glances, but no one spoke directly to her unless it was regarding a patient.

  Mr. Pierce’s smile overturned when he saw her red eyes, but he said nothing and lapsed back into his sullen, grouchy mood. At least Stephen had disappeared again, and this time, he stayed away. He did return a page from another nurse, and hearing his name made Rose jump.