Page 54 of Doctor Charmer

She disconnects, and I exit the car, her words playing on repeat in my head. She’s right. I got it bad.

***

Hand on the back of her head, lips smashed together, Ivy barely has time to step through the door before I’m on her. Her handbag falls to the ground, and I press her up against the back of the door.

She arches her back, and I tug at the sleeves of her winter coat. It falls next to the handbag. I lead her toward the couch, leaving a trail of gloves, scarves, and sweaters. By the time we fall backward on the couch, her blouse is half-opened, and both of us are panting.

“Someone missed me.” She places a kiss on my nose, her fiery eyes torching me. Burn, baby, burn.

“You have no idea.”

She flips on top of me, fingernails scratching across my chest as she pops the buttons from my shirt. “Then tell me. Is this about me or your hatred of Dr. Harriman?”

I lift up on my elbows, our noses tapping, “I’m sure I would feel just as worked up seeing any man touch you like that.”

“Hmmm.” She cups my face, her stare so intense it feels as if she’s looking directly into my soul. “Show me.” She removes her hand, the warmth of her touch remaining.

Lips locked, everything becomes a blur. I inhale her scent, flowers and sweetness, and I want it to inhale it all at once. She grabs my wrists, pinning them to the couch. “I’m in charge here,” she says, reminding me she always is. Dr. Harriman may have thought he was leading her on, but she was the one in control every step of the way. It’s the only reason I agreed to her dangerous plan. Her words to me at the time:I’ve dealt like men like Harriman all my life. Being a woman in America teaches you to grow up fast.

“Now, tell me again all the things you want to do to me?” She’s deliciously adorable, a sexy, smart, confident wonder that sets my heart racing with thoughts I’ve rarely envisioned.

She releases my wrists, and I wrap my hands around her curvy hips. “First. Let’s take this to the bedroom…” I rise slowly from the couch, lifting her. She wraps her legs around me as I stand, and a stolen kiss is my reward. She nuzzles her head into mychest. “I can’t wait to…” My hospital pager beeps on the coffee table in front of us, and my feet halt.

I’m suspended. Not on duty. Not on the call list.

That’s strange.

I ignore it and carry Ivy toward the bedroom when the pager buzzes again. “One second.” I whisper an apology, and she unwraps her legs from around me, lowering her feet to the floor. I retrieve the pager and pause when I see the number. Angie.

No way Sarah has met with HR already and my suspension is being lifted. Which means something’s wrong.

I scan the room in search of my cell phone and realize I left it in the bedroom, right next to the lit candles I prepared for Ivy while I waited for her to arrive. I rush through the room, pushing open the door, Ivy right behind me.

“Is everything alright?” she calls out behind me.

I scoop up my phone, swipe, and press Call. “Will know in a second.” I toss the line over my shoulder as I wait for it to connect.

“Sorry for the page. I called your cell first.” Angie starts right in.

“It was in the other room. What’s going on?”

“Is Ivy with you?”

I nod, even though she can’t see me. “Yeah. What’s this about?” My mind races ahead. If she’s asking for Ivy, it might be about the exam I had Angie perform. I told Angie to be thorough. Did she find something worse than the flexor strain?

“Put me on speaker.” I wave to Ivy, who is staring at the candles, the champagne glasses on my dresser, and the bottle of white wine next to it. When she reads my face, the whimsical look falls from hers.

“You’re on speaker.”

“Ivy, this is Dr. Carmichael. You need to come back to the hospital. Griffin is suffering from internal bleeding, and he’s onhis way into surgery. Chelsea is freaking out and could use a little hand holding.” Angie is direct to the point. She’s delivering the facts fast and direct.

Ivy only allows herself the briefest of seconds to process, her hands pressing to her heart before she’s ready to act. “I’m on my way.” She shifts to protector-of-others mode, and I get a glimpse of what she must’ve been like on the scene of the accident. Never allows herself to process her feelings. Focused on others. She marches next to the duffel bag containing her sweat suit. She begins stripping in front of me, not wanting to waste the precious seconds it might take to pop into the bathroom.

“I’ll drive you,” I volunteer.

“You can’t,” Angie shouts. “You’re suspended. You can’t come to the hospital.”

“I’d like to see them try to stop me,” I grit back disconnecting the call. I catch Ivy’s glance, a look of concern and appreciation.

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