Page 13 of Silver Fox's Intern Dilemma

The man was lucky to have gotten to the ER when he did. A few more minutes and he would've died of exsanguination. Lucky for him, Jack was the top-rated surgeon in the city, even for a chief resident. We got the bleeding stopped and his wound sutured, but not before I found myself getting a bit emotional. I blinked back the tears but I wasn't okay.

"Uh, nurse," Jack said, nodding at the patient. "Take over now. We're going to scrub out."

I didn't know how he did it. Jack stood over patients all day long with that scalpel in hand, cutting them open and repairing their insides. When routine surgeries were scheduled and planned ahead, bad things still happened. But I'd never assisted on an emergency surgery before. I was overwhelmed when theman's vitals crashed and we had to use the paddles to bring him back.

"Dr. Chen," Jack said, already moving toward the scrub station.

We scrubbed out, and I finally lost the battle with my tears. Jack was kind enough to say nothing to me as we washed and dried our hands and ditched the robes and gloves. I tore my scrub cap off the minute we were in the hallway moving toward his office and used it to wipe my tears. A few nurses looked at me strangely, but I was glad that it was past eleven at night. There weren't very many people around.

"Are you okay?" Jack asked, catching up with me.

My emotions weren't supposed to come out like this. I was a surgeon, not a baby. I should have been able to handle the situation and move on from it. The man was fine now. Sure, he had a long recovery ahead of him and would probably be in the hospital for weeks, but he was alive. We saved his life. Why was I so upset?

"I don't know," I told him honestly, but the tears didn't stop coming. He unlocked his office and opened the door for me, and I walked past him into the cramped space. He flicked the light on and shut the door, then instead of sitting in his chair on the far side of his desk, he sat right next to me. Three chairs in this room and he chose the one so close to mine that our knees touched.

"Hey, it's okay. Just talk to me." Jack's hand smoothed circles on my back, which I was certain wasn't professional etiquette. Any other boss under any other circumstance would just send me to the ladies’ room to wash my face and get myself together. But Jack wasn't just any other boss. While we weren't exactly friends, he was somewhere across the line of professionality right now.

"He almost died." I looked up at him as I cried and sniffled, trying not to let snot run out of my nose. Crying was one thing.Ugly crying in front of my boss who was also my latest crush was not an option.

"He's okay.” Jack's head nodded as he spoke. "But your reaction is perfectly normal. I had a mental breakdown and punched a hole in the wall of my boss's office when I lost my first patient." He chuckled and continued rubbing my back. "I had to pay for that repair, which was almost more upsetting to me than losing the patient."

I couldn’t stop crying. I swiped at my face with my scrub cap and Jack sighed. He looked around, as if searching for tissues. There was nothing in this office but three chairs, a desk, and a picture of his daughter framed on the corner of his desk.

"Here," he said, pulling his scrub cap off. "Use this." He handed it to me and I tried to smile, then I blew my nose on it. "You can keep it," he joked, and I sucked in a breath, trying to calm myself down.

"You really lost a patient?" I asked him, wanting to know the details. My lip quivered as I spoke and I stuttered a few breaths.

"Yes, I did. Elderly man had a heart attack and I was doing an angio to insert stents and he had a second one on the table. I couldn’t save him." Jack looked remorseful as he said, "So don't be too hard on yourself for reacting this way. We have a really important and delicate job."

I was surprised that his hand was still on my back circling round and round. I liked the sensation. It was comforting. I met his gaze and asked, "How long did it take you to get over it?"

The sincerity in his eyes when he said, "I haven't," made my heart clench. "I take it with me into every surgery I do. That's why I stay laser focused and on top of things. I know how easily life slips through your fingers. I know how delicate the human body is."

His hand left my back and reached up to my face, curling one of my stray dark hairs around my ear. I sighed when he restedhis hand on my shoulder and I looked down at the soiled scrub cap. "Thank you for listening." I felt marginally better, though I was sure I'd have bad dreams about that moment for weeks. I wondered if I was going to be the sort of person who couldn't get over operating room tensions.

When I looked back up at Jack, his eyes were full of compassion. "What sort of human would I be if I just let you sit and beat yourself up?" He opened his arms as if to offer a hug, and I didn't know what came over me, but I accepted the hug.

Nothing about this interaction was inappropriate. Not one thing about it was unethical or against the rules. But somehow, it stirred my desire to be close to him again. Only this time, it was worse. It wasn't the drive of sheer lust burning a hole through my core. It was a deep longing to feel the comfort of his arms. So when he started to loosen his grip, I clung to him, squeezing harder.

Jack held me for a few minutes, and when I pulled back slightly, I realized we had crossed the line. He was my boss, not my friend or brother or even a potential partner. I was putting myself in a very precarious position and I knew it. Seeking comfort from him in the form of physical contact would lead to no good. And after the conversation we had before surgery, I knew he was vulnerable too.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Thornton," I mumbled, trying to pull away. But he held me so I couldn't.

"Don't be sorry," he whispered, and I watched his eyes fall to my lips. "I have to admit I'm having a hard time right now." His gaze swept over my face, looking me in the eye, then dropped to my lips again.

"A hard time with what?" I asked, but I knew. I was having the same difficulty. I liked him holding me way more than I should have. And I wanted him to keep doing it. I wanted more than just to be held.

"That thing… we talked about.” His tongue popped out and slicked his lip, then he sucked his lip into his mouth and bit it slightly. "I can't stop thinking about it, about you.”

My mind was racing, and my heart was beating so fast I felt breathless. I'd gone from self-pity to desire in three seconds flat. Here was the most gorgeous man I'd ever met staring me in the eye, basically telling me he wanted to kiss me—again. But he was off limits. I shouldn't be doing it. I should have been pushing him away, doing the right thing. Following hospital policy. I should have been thinking about my parents and what they’d think, or my career and how this would turn out.

But for the life of me, as I began being sucked into his gravity, the only thing I could think of was how his lips felt on mine at that fundraiser.

"Then I think maybe you should stop thinking," I told him, and what I meant was, stop thinking about me. But what happened was the polar opposite.

Jack leaned forward and pressed his lips against mine, and I let my eyes shut as I parted my lips and let my tongue dance with his.

I felt his hands slide up my body, gently caressing my back before sliding down to cup my ass, pulling me into his lap. In a flash, I found myself straddling him on his chair, legs around his waist. The kiss deepened, and all coherent thought fled. All I could think about was how soft his lips were, how the stubble around his jawline sent shivers down my spine, how he tasted like peppermint and heat—and Jack.

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