In the back of my mind, a voice whispers:Run.
Turns out that, as much as I fight it, when it comes to William, I’m all heart, and that heart says:Stay and see what happens.
* * *
When I wake, the room is flooded with sunlight.
That’s the first thing I notice when I open my eyes.
The second is that this isn’t my room but a very upscale, masculine one—all in black.
I bolt upright as I realize where I am.
Flashes of memory come back: I had a few more drinks. We danced at the club. The ride back to the car, kisses and touches . . .and that’s it. I can’t recall what happened after we got out of the car.
I yank the sheet down a bit and sigh in relief when I see I’m still wearing the same red dress Jackie loaned me.
Then I glance at the pillow beside me; not only is it dented, like someone slept there, but there’s also a note:
I had to leave for an emergency surgery. I’ll come back as soon as possible. Don’t run, or I’ll hunt you down.
William
CHAPTER TWENTY
I forcedmyself not to think about her the entire time I was in surgery.
I’m completely dedicated to my work, allowing no outside interference—not even from the woman who’s turning my damn world upside down.
I’ve never brought someone to my home just so they could sleep over. I’ve never wanted a woman there simply for the sake of it. And yet, even without us having done anything beyond some kisses—which, by my standards, were practically chaste—I couldn’t let her leave.
I wanted her with me.
“How’d it go in there?” L.J. asks, crossing paths with me in the hallway.
I’m not surprised to find him here on a Saturday. None of the three of us ever turns away emergencies, and it’s not unusual for us to see each other at the hospital on weekends.
I’m also not surprised that he’s already in the loop about the patient I just operated on.
“We’ll know in a few days. The affected area was extensive—arms and back primarily. The trailer’s kitchen blew up with the husband inside. The wife only had minor burns, but his are third-degree. There’s nothing to be done right now, aside from pain control.”
“And his lungs? He must have inhaled a lot of smoke.”
“Yeah, but he’ll survive. His recovery, though, as always in these cases, will be long and painful.”
Treating fire victims, especially when their injuries go beyond lost soft tissue and skin—down to the bone, affecting muscle compartments and causing nerve damage—is a true test of endurance for both the medical team and the patient. In the case of the older man I just operated on, he was lucky no vital organs were harmed.
“Lousy way to start a Saturday.”
I shrug. The work doesn’t faze me. No matter how bad the situation, I never let emotions interfere. It’s the woman waiting for me at home who’s messing with my meticulously ordered world.
“You went clubbing last night,” L.J. says, changing the subject and glancing at his phone screen, which just chimed with a new message.
“I stopped by Vanity,” I say, not offering any further details. But when he smirks sardonically, I know he knows more than he’s letting on.
He confirms it by showing me his phone. “That's your girl?” he asks, pointing to a photo some damned paparazzo took of me and Taylor on the dance floor.
“Yeah, that’s Taylor.”