Hot Single Docs: Giving In To Temptation: NYC Angels: Making the Surgeon Smile / NYC Angels: An Explosive Reunion / St Piran's: The Wedding of The Year. Lynne Marshall
and falling far short of the mark, she gave some semblance of a smile, and in return he gave that half grimace, half smile he was so adept at then quickly looked away.
Could things get any more awkward?
By Wednesday afternoon, having great sex with John Griffin had started to seem more like a figment of Polly’s imagination than fact. He’d drifted in and out of the hospital ward like a ghost leaving hints of things out of place, or the tell-tale scent of his woodsy aftershave, or an icy chill spiraling down her spine. Not once did he try to confront her, and she’d vowed to steer clear of his office no matter how much she wanted to chew him out for being so cold and inconsiderate for leaving her dangling and insecure since Friday night.
On Thursday morning the pet therapy Dalmatian made rounds, stopping beside Polly’s toddler patient, Eugenia. The child had fallen from a two-story window and broken both arms, and had been taken into protective services after being admitted to Angel’s. She was withdrawn and moody, and Polly didn’t know how to reach her or make her comfortable. But Dotty the Dalmatian brightened the child’s gray eyes with interest, and soon a smile crossed her lips as Dotty licked her fingertips.
Warmth washed through Polly’s down mood, and she grinned at her young charge, then was rewarded with Eugenia smiling back. Simple things. Small steps. This was the way to put a life back together, as Polly only knew too well from her own childhood.
“May I talk to you?” From behind, the familiar voice made her eyes go wide. It was John. Adrenaline sprayed like scattershot throughout her chest. She schooled her expression before she turned.
“Sure,” she said, acting as if nothing, especially her ego, had been flipped sideways since they’d had mind-blowing sex.
Leaving her patient with Dotty and the pet therapy lady, she followed his long and purposeful strides toward the supply room.
When they arrived, he took a deep breath. “I don’t want this to be offensive or anything,” he said in a nearly inaudible voice, “but I think you should take some STD tests.”
So this was all about medical business, about the messy little clean-up committee for being reckless with the new girl. He may not have wanted to offend her but pure insult made her send him a cutting glance. “Why, Doctor? Have you jeopardized me?”
“No!” he rasped. She could see the vein on the side of his neck pop out.
“But you worry I may have...”
“No,” he said, in a strained whisper. “I’m just being practical.”
She latched onto his eyes and stared him down. “For your information, I don’t sleep around. I don’t have any surprises to give you, so I’ll skip. Thanks.” She turned to walk away, trying her best to save what was left of her pride, but he caught her by the elbow and held her back.
“We were completely careless.” He spoke quietly, directly into her ear. Even now, under the worst possible circumstances, the touch of his breath on her neck made her skin prickle. She looked up at him. His dark eyes peered into hers in warning. “As a doctor, I can’t be negligent. I’ve ordered some tests for you.”
“What about you?” she said, hackles fully raised and ready to fight.
He looked thoughtfully at his OR clogs. “I checked out okay.”
“Then what’s the point of me—?”
His flat expression warned she wasn’t about to like his answer. “Because I’m not the one who can get pregnant, even if you’re on birth control pills.”
Stunned by reality, she swallowed around a dry knot. She’d already told him there wouldn’t be a problem—didn’t he believe her? Since he was being such a jerk about everything today, she wouldn’t argue.
Desperate to save face, she shrugged free of his hold. “I’ll handle the tests myself, thanks,” she said as she walked away, trying her best to stand straight and look confident, while feeling anything but.
That night, still fuming, she stopped at the corner ma and pa grocery store and found a pregnancy test purporting to identify a pregnancy within seven to ten days after the missed period. But Polly hadn’t missed her period, which wasn’t due for another three days. Would she be able to hold tight and wait for three days then buy the test? The blood test John had ordered could tell much sooner than the urine test, but her pride had tripped her up and kept her from consenting. She was sure that just because John Griffin had ordered the test and the results would be sent to him, he wasn’t going to be the first to know if, and that was a very big if, she was pregnant or not.
Of course she wasn’t pregnant. She took her pills every night as directed.
For some illogical reason, that night when she prepared her dinner she made sure it was well balanced and nutritious as one short phrase whispered in her mind—What if?—which was quickly followed by a heavy brick of panic landing in her stomach and replacing her appetite.
* * *
Monday morning, officially late for her period, Polly showed up at work withdrawn and anxious. Dread trickled down her spine as she remembered the antibiotics she’d taken a few weeks back for a sinus infection. It was a known fact that antibiotics could interfere with the potency of birth control pills for up to two weeks. It had been more than two weeks since she’d taken them, though, and that kept her hopeful all would be fine.
“Hey, Polly, how’s it shakin’?” the ward clerk Rafael asked as she passed the nurses’ station.
“Meh,” she said, and walked on.
“What? If you’re not in a good mood, how the heck am I supposed to be?”
She stopped in her tracks and saw honest surprise in his dark chocolate-colored eyes. “I guess you’ll just have to work extra hard at it today, Rafe ol’ buddy.”
“That’s cold, forcing a man to be in a good mood for no good reason all on his own.” He laughed. “See, even in a bad mood you make me smile.”
“What’s this I hear about little Miss Sunshine being in a foul mood?” Brooke said, approaching Polly and putting her hand on Polly’s shoulder. She rubbed back and forth. “You okay?”
Did her face have to be an open book?
“I’ve been better.” She should have gotten her period on Saturday, but so far there wasn’t even a hint that it was on the way. She had a question she wanted to ask Brooke, but didn’t want to be blatant about how a person went about getting a pregnancy test done at Angel’s, so she decided to wait for a better time under less obvious circumstances.
On Wednesday morning, Brooke assigned her once again to Eugenia, who was constantly being assessed and visited by social services, play therapists, speech therapists, and just about every doctor on staff. Polly looked forward to spending the day with a little girl who needed love as much as she did.
During Eugenia’s bed bath, Polly tickled and teased the child to get her to laugh, which she did more easily this week than last.
“Mornin’, peanut,” a woman with a heavy Texan drawl said. “How’s my girl today?”
Polly looked up to see the beautiful blonde Dr. Layla Woods. “Can you say good morning for Dr. Woods, Eugenia?”
“Mun.”
Dr. Woods smiled at Polly, then at Eugenia. “That’s very good.”
Polly loved her accent. As Dr. Woods warmed the child up with a game of peek-a-boo and then delicately did a quick physical assessment of Eugenia, Polly studied her flawless complexion and gorgeous Texas-bluebell-colored eyes. She’d seen her before on the orthopedic floor several times making general medicine rounds, always smiling and gracious. Always approachable.
Polly had heard rumblings about Dr. Woods and the head of Neurosurgery, Dr. Alejandro Rodriguez, the most gorgeous man on the planet. Bar none. But she didn’t want