Chapter 1

One

Malcolm

T here was one way to keep my cock out of trouble: avoid socializing with the female staff at Metropolitan Hospital.

And it worked perfectly until last night.

My golden rule—never fuck around in the workplace—has not been easy to follow. Being Dr. Malcolm Murdoch, I have plenty of temptation. I'm thirty-three years old and six foot three. Most mornings, I run through Central Park before work. I have my father's dark eyes and the small scar on my right cheekbone was put there by my brother years ago. Plus, there's my sizable inheritance, which makes my physician's salary from Metropolitan's emergency department look like my local coffee haunt's tip jar, and though my colleague, Dr. Holly Ives, routinely accuses me of being an arrogant asshole, judging from the number of women who like my Scottish accent, that's not a shortcoming.

Tonight, I promised my former medical school roommates I'd join them to talk shit about hospital administration while we hit a few bars downtown. Oliver and I waited out front on the sidewalk for Lucas. Underneath me, the subway rumbled by and the grate we stood over sent up a whoosh of the exhaust. I wasn't a native New Yorker, but I loved the city--like it was part of my soul.

The fresh air, such as it was in Manhattan, was welcome after my fourteen-hour shift. It was warm for May. New York is like that in spring, it had been eighty degrees earlier that day. Tonight, the temperature had only dropped ten degrees and I wished I'd left my blazer in my staff locker.

Catching a glance at myself in the reflection of the window next to me, my thick dark hair had a tendency to curl if given the slightest opportunity. I liked it cut short, so I didn't have to bother with it. I wore a hand-tailored jacket and a button-down dress shirt, but I skipped the tie. Faded jeans were my favorite attire when I wasn't wearing scrubs.

Oliver Sorenson was texting on his phone, trying to locate Lucas. I left him to the task while I tipped my head back and savored being outside.

Twilight in the city always fascinated me. It's like everyone in New York takes a deep breath while the street lights come on and the office buildings go black. When the skyscrapers light up against the darkening sky, a sense of anticipation radiates for the coming night.

"He's on his way. Let's stop at La Salle's. There's a send-off for Dr. Mancuso." Oliver didn't look up from his phone. He was a pediatric emergency medicine physician who looked like a Viking, was a complete nut about his vinyl LP collection, and loved gossip like an old woman.

"Mancuso's retiring again?" I asked. Dr. Mancuso "retired" about once a year; after a few months away, she was back on the schedule.

I couldn't imagine ever retiring. Working as a doctor in the emergency department in a busy New York hospital was all I had ever wanted. Still, I admired Mancuso as a colleague and mentor.

"Do you ever read the staff emails?" Oliver asked, still glued to his phone.

"Never." As we exited the hospital, I signaled to Lucas.

Lucas Chavez was a pathologist, and like me, New York was his adopted home. He had the compact build of a wrestler, a passion for running marathons, and loved a good dark beer. He was my best friend.

"We're stopping by La Salle's first. After that, we're heading downtown." Oliver had taken charge of our first stop that evening, which would be a brief visit where we'd grab a beer, congratulate Mancuso, and then hit the door. We could be in and out in half an hour.

La Salle's wasn't my kind of place, mostly because it was a few blocks from the hospital and, therefore, popular with staff after hours. I'd only been inside the below street level bar a few times briefly and recalled with a cringe the themed décor that borrowed heavily from the "Cheers" TV show.

Inside, the bar was packed. This surprised me as, given Mancuso's history, there'd be another one of these for her next year.

"What's going on?" I asked.

Lucas looked at me with pity in his dark eyes. "You really have no idea?"

"I don't." We squeezed our way to the bar and everyone we passed knew at least one of us. Most, knew us all.

Great. The entire hospital had shown up. That was a testament to Dr. Mancuso. To me, it set my teeth on edge. I wanted to say my bit and get the hell out of here. I'd be happier wandering down in the blessed anonymity of Greenwich Village.

I jockeyed my way to the bar. Dr. Mancuso perched on a barstool. She was a petite woman with the tight perm favored by grandmothers everywhere. Her smile widened when she saw me.

"Malcolm! This is an honor." She held out her hand to me. "You never come to my retirement farewells."

Her hand was bony, and her cheekbones were more pronounced. She'd lost weight. Some time off would do her good. As a doctor, I couldn't help assessing everyone I met.

"I know you don't like these things, so you better grab yourself a drink," she continued.

I ordered a whiskey, then sat down when the seat next to her opened up.

"I'm sorry that you're retiring, but you'll be back. I know your type." I had to lean close so that she could hear me over the noise. I sipped my whiskey.

She smiled ruefully. "This time, it's going to stick."

"You don't look like the type to take up knitting." I studied her amidst the chaos of the bar.

For the first time ever, the word ‘frail' came to mind. She was sick. Her recent weight loss gave her away.

"Are you all right?" I asked.

Dr. Mancuso sipped her white wine, then set it on the counter. "What gave me away?"

"I was trained by a fantastic teacher." I pushed my drink away. The whiskey was overrated, plus this news gave me a sour stomach. Though we are trained to deal with bad news, it was never welcome. "What is it?" I asked.

"Nothing that concerns you." She patted my hand in a grandmotherly way.

I was shocked. I'd never considered that my mentor probably was a grandmother. She didn't wear a wedding ring. She'd never talked about a family or shown off any pictures to the staff. Whatever was going on, must be serious indeed.

I wanted to press her for her diagnosis, to know what the plan was, and ask how I could help.

"I'm afraid I've been a poor tutor, Malcolm." Dr. Mancuso's fingers smoothed the edges of her wrinkled cocktail napkin. "I was so busy teaching you about medicine, I never talked to you about life."

"If this is ‘the birds and the bees' talk, you don't have to worry. I'm all caught up." I flashed her a grin.

Sadness flitted across her face.

"Work has been my identity my entire adult life. But there is more out there than work for people like us. Don't be afraid to search for it."

My mind was spinning, and not from the drink. Mancuso was sick. Really sick, if she was giving me a life lecture. I wished we weren't in such a public place so I could find out what was really going on.

But my horror at this information, which she rather casually delivered, competed with someone at the corner of my eye trying to wedge into this conversation.

People needed to learn how to fuck off.

I hoped they got my mental message.

But it was too late.

Mancuso's eyes lit up.

She spoke to the interloper over my shoulder. "Take my seat. I need to talk to Dr. Rodriguez." She slid off her barstool as she lowered her voice to just an audible level. "You two are my star students."

Then she was swallowed up by the busy crowd.

My mind churned. I wasn't surprised I was Mancuso's favorite, but I was surprised to learn I was one of two.

Who was my competition?

I turned to my left to size up the intruder and did a double-take.

"Malcolm. Nice to see you here." The soft, sweet feminine voice sounded familiar, but in this setting, I was disoriented at first and it didn't hit me. Not until Dr. Holly Ives moved in and stood so close I could smell her delicate perfume. One so faint if you moved away too fast one would miss it.

I liked to call her Ivy as a nickname and used it countless times a day because it put a pretty blush on her cheeks when she thought no one was looking.

Holly slid onto a vacated barstool next to mine.

I'd only had a sip of a shitty drink after one fourteen-hour shift, but my brain felt mired in sludge.

Of course, Holly would be Mancuso's favorite. She was one hell of an emergency room physician.

"Who is covering the unit?" I finally managed as a greeting. My fingers curled tight around my glass. I needed something to hold onto as my world tilted, sliding out of control.

"Fitz wanted to work a double. He grumbled about alimony payments." Holly caught the bartender's eye quickly. "Can I get a glass of merlot?"

Holly stood no taller than five feet, two inches--a bite-sized morsel of sweetness in my opinion. At work, she wore a turtleneck under her scrubs, even if it was ninety degrees out and the damn thing served as a barrier I've thought about peeling back and exposing a queen-like neck I knew hid under all that unnecessary cloth.

She wore expensive running shoes, which as far as I could tell, was her only indulgence, and sexy, black-rimmed glasses she pushed up a delicate nose about one hundred times a day. As always, her dark hair was coiled in a knot at the back of her head. With tiny wisps escaping despite her fight against the contrary.

She was smart as hell and despite her size, took no shit from anyone. Outside of Mancuso, she was the only other colleague that I truly respected. And battled a raging attraction to.

For the last year, we'd been working in the emergency room and I have somehow managed to keep my wayward thoughts and hands to myself. Others have dropped words like plain and boring, but to me she was driven, focused and carried a natural beauty that didn't need ten layers of foundation to make shine through.

But tonight anything but plain sat beside me. And my cock noticed.

Perched on the barstool beside mine, Holly wore a strapless little black dress with a sexy pair of stilettos—neither of which I've ever seen her in.

No surprise blood rushed to my cock immediately. If a set of scrubs wrapped around her perfect body could get me hard, this outfit might do me in for good.

She had a perfectly round ass with firm breasts that made me think of ripe apples. My mouth watered as images of licking her from head to toe flitted through my brain.

This was Dr. Holly Ives under all those layers of medical clothes. And that damn turtle neck.

Her hair fell loose down her back. It stopped just short of that delectable ass and I knew with it's length and thickness all those hard locks would fall around her as she rode me hard.

With an overly friendly smile, the bartender set a drink in front of her. "It's on the house, Doctor." He winked and being a guy above all else I understood that sign language. He wanted what was mine.

Like hell.

"Don't you have other clients to tend, buddy? And there's no need for that. Here." I slapped my credit card on the bar with more force than necessary.

Holly raised an eyebrow at me, lips pursed.

Fuck. I knew that look.

"I'd prefer you didn't," she said. Raspberry colored her lips and until now I never noticed her lower lip was a little fuller than the top, making me hungry for a taste.

"Too late." I didn't know where to look. Everything above her neck disoriented me and everything below made me want to grab her, claim her with a heart pounding kiss right here in front of everyone, and then take her back to my place for an all-nighter.

"Thank you." She took a sip of her wine, eyes locked on mine. "You're staring. Though for the record, you cleaned up pretty well too, but you already knew that."

And there it was. The other half of the equation. Holly never missed a chance to let me know just how arrogant she considered me. It came with the job description. To do what we did you had to have a certain level of confidence or many would huddle in the corner under the pressure.

I happened to carry my arrogance with a little more pride than most, I suppose. I liked to think of it as a no bull-shit approach to life. Others thought I was crass.

With difficulty, I pulled my gaze away from hers. Only then did I notice I wasn't the only one drinking in her sensual appearance.

Oliver and Lucas caught sight of us from across the bar. They were obviously checking her out. Thank God, her smoking hot body was hidden behind the bar.

"I've never seen you out of scrubs." I cleared my throat and tried to remember that I was not a horny teenage boy.

Get a grip, Murdoch.

She hummed a little laugh and it zinged straight to my core. "It does feel like they are my second skin." Her grey eyes studied me as she tilted her head to one side. I knew that look. She was calculating.

I wouldn't admit it, but I suspected Holly was smarter than me. And honestly, I'm a pretty intelligent guy. I graduated top of my class from my Ivy League college and medical school. In the next month, my three-year residency program would come to an end. I was already planning to stay in the emergency department and move to a staff position. To no one's surprise, I lived for my work.

Now I felt like I was the subject of an elaborate prank. I was standing here with a colleague that I deeply respected, had worked with for a year, and thought I knew.

But I was wrong. This woman sitting next to me made my cock stand at attention. All I could think about was marching her to the back of the bar and fucking her against the wall in full view of the patrons.

Meanwhile, Oliver and Lucas approached from opposite sides of the bar like two wolves on the hunt.

I wanted to tear their eyes out. It was utterly illogical, but I knew without a doubt if one of them touched Holly I would kill either or both of them.

"Hey, you two, we found a free table in the back. Want to join us?" Oliver leaned an elbow on the bar and trailed a lingering eye over Holly's cleavage.

Holly pivoted, facing my friends and that one little movement sent a wash of her perfume over me. I swear to God right, if I could find a clear path to the door, I would He-Man us out of here and find the nearest Hotel room. "Looks like the peds ER and the pathology department has arrived in force. Lucas, did you get my email about those lab results?"

Oblivious to my inner war, Holly and her tight little body were all business.

Instead of dampening my desire, my cock hardened. At this rate, I'd be crawling out of the bar tonight.

Lucas held up his hand and groaned. "No work, please. In fact, it should be illegal for a woman--a Doctor--as beautiful as you to be talking shop tonight."

Her body stiffened at the rebuke and I surmise the good doctor wasn't at all accustomed to compliments.

With Holly turned around, those two jackals I called friends leered at the outline of her ass like they'd never seen a woman before. The deep vee of her neckline in both the front and back showed off her bare skin in an intensely erotic fashion. I couldn't blame them. But that didn't stop me from peering over her head until they got the message to fuck off.

Standing this close, my hand itched to reach around and stroke down her back. I longed to touch her supple skin and feel her vertebrae under my fingertips.

Clearly I have lost my freaking mind.

"Thanks for the invite for a table, but I'm here with Noah. I better get back. He'll be wondering where I wandered off to. See you guys tomorrow at work. Be sure to send me those lab results asap. I might write up an article on that case."

When she turned toward me, her hem rode up, showing more of her curvy thighs. She glided off the barstool with the finesse of a New York model. "Thank you for the drink, Doctor."

Always so damn formal.

I watched her walk off a minute before I carried my crappy whiskey with me to the table the guys paid the waitress to hold. My brain churned furiously. Our new table happened to have a view of Holly and Noah.

Noah was a psychiatrist who we often called in to consult on patients in our emergency room. The best thing I could say about him was that he was competent. I never gave him a second thought until now.

How long had he and Holly been dating?

What the fuck was wrong with me? Why should I care that my colleague showed up in a pretty dress and on the arm of another man?

It was more than a dress, though. It was like the armor she'd been wearing had been stripped away. Armor I wanted to strip from her to find the true curvy, beautiful woman underneath.

I knew her mind. Always craved to know the rest of her and now I might have waited too long.

I turned to Oliver, whirling my whiskey rather than drinking it.

"I don't know what she sees in him." I took a sip, wincing. Tonight called for a better drink than this overpriced tourist shit.

My eyes kept drifting back to her and the way the Vee of her dress revealed the unblemished skin. It was like an irritant in my mind that I couldn't smooth out. I prided myself on being an excellent observer. I picked up on details most of my colleagues missed.

Yet, I'd been oblivious to this whole other part of Holly. Never saw her as a person who dated. Jesus, I needed some fresh air, better whiskey and maybe a one-nighter.

"It's his cock," Oliver announced in a voice that carried a few tables over from the stares that turned our way.

He didn't seem to care.

He only paused to order drinks for the three women two tables over. The blonde with an expensive dye job didn't try to hide the fact she was eye-fucking me. When the waitress left, he continued. "I've seen him in the gym shower. He's hung like a bull and it speaks to him like some attached spirit."

I laughed, sliding my drink his way. "You either need another one of these or to lay off. I'm not sure yet."

Beside me Lucas groaned. "Please, no. Now I have that image seared into my brain."

It didn't matter that an hour ago, I'd never thought of Holly outside of the hospital. Now I knew what she hid from me under those scrubs and turtlenecks.

Oliver and Lucas flirted with our neighbors, but that little dance didn't interest me at all tonight.

Instead, I excused myself and headed for the restroom. I turned away from that door and found a space at the end of the hallway. I made a call, waited two minutes, then returned to the bar, just in time to see Noah heading for the exit.

My body tingled with electricity.

The night suddenly felt different. Important.

I'd been alone with Holly plenty of times before, though I'd never experienced the kick of nervous energy coursing through my veins. Hell, we'd even slept in the same call room on bunk beds catching a few hours' sleep. I appreciated that she didn't snore and she didn't kick me out if I had.

Now, I approached Holly sitting alone. "What's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?" I slid into Noah's vacant seat.

She'd watched me threading through the crowd toward her. Without her glasses, I noticed the gray-green of her eyes and her thick, dark lashes.

"Who said I'm a nice girl? You know you should never assume you know things about people." Her lips wrapped around the straw of her drink, and I felt the pull of her suck like she had my cock in her mouth instead of a piece of plastic.

"Is that club soda?" I nodded to her drink. My throat grew hoarse from trying to remain calm.

"I'm a one-drink kind of girl, so the merlot was it. From here on out, I'm ginger ale all the way." She cocked her head to one side, considering me. "Honestly, I'm a bit disappointed. Based on your reputation, I had high expectations for your bar banter. I must be catching you on an off night. That one-liner felt kinda lame."

I wasn't too surprised to learn I had a reputation. I might not fuck around at work, but for a city of eight million people, word gets around more than I would've guessed when I first moved to town.

Right now, I didn't care about any of that.

I considered finding a dark corner to fuck her into submission. Too public. Not her style. My desire to publicly claim her warred with my need to protect her from harmful gossip.

Clearly, my cock is doing all the thinking tonight.

"You got rid of him, didn't you? Noah. That was all you." She played with her straw, keeping her gaze glued to her drink. Those wispy strands of hair she hated brushed against lightly blushed cheeks.

I shrugged a shoulder, never taking my gaze off her. "I don't hear you protesting. Does that mean you don't mind?" I pushed Noah's discarded drink aside.

"It depends on the reason."

"Truth. I can't stand the thought of you with him." There. I laid it out between us. No sexy innuendo or flirty dialogue with her. That was like wearing an ill-fitting suit anyway. I respected her too much to put either of us through more corny banter neither of us liked.

Besides, I couldn't be anything but honest with Holly. Maybe all that time together at work hardwired me for truth. There was no time for bullshit when lives were at stake.

Holly stabbed the ice in her glass with her straw. She concentrated on her task. Gray eyes leveled on me. "For the whole hour, you knew we were together, huh? I could feel your eyes on me, you know."

"Another truth. You two didn't fit."

In the six inches of space between us, her scent poured over me. The hospital's soap mixed with her own light lavender scent.

Her lips pulled into a smile. "This from the man who whores his way through New York. Your little black book and Scottish burr must be your biggest weapons." She might not be powerhouse flirt, but tonight Holly projected a new persona I didn't recognize. Tonight, she didn't hold back and didn't try to hide when her gaze slipped past my belt.

She raised her eyebrows when she saw what our little talk was doing to me. In appreciation or not, I don't know. But I would like to find out.

She dropped her eyes to the table when what I really wanted was for her to lift them to mine again. Wanted her to see just how much I craved to have a connection with her.

Why? I didn't have an answer yet.

I was silent, thinking hard about this overwhelming need for her that had hit me like a tidal wave tonight.

"Doctor—"

"Malcolm," I corrected her, wanting my name on her lips.

"Malcolm. Nothing is ever going to happen between us." Holly sipped her drink. Naturally, she knew what I was thinking. Did she know I wanted those lips of hers wrapped around my cock?

"Let me try changing your mind." It wasn't a question. It was a statement; I was used to getting my way.

She shook her head. "Sorry, the stats aren't in your favor. I don't need the complications either."

I couldn't fault her for that. Up until an hour ago, avoiding complications was my life goal, too.

Something had changed between us. It was like an arc of current connecting us; she felt it too. Even in this crowded bar, it was as if we were on an island.

"I'll walk you home." It wasn't a request. There was no way she was leaving this bar and walking the city streets alone. It was New York, after all.

"No need for that. I live three blocks away." She grabbed her purse and slid out of her seat.

"Humor me." Again, not a question.

I knew she lived in the hospital's subsidized housing for staff, residents, and medical students. Housing in New York was a nightmare. I didn't need subsidized housing, nor did I care to live right next to where I worked. Only Lucas and Oliver knew I had a brownstone townhouse in swanky Greenwich Village. It was a benefit of coming from a ridiculously wealthy family.

But Holly didn't come from money.

Cool air greeted us outside and Holly pulled her arms around her chest.

I slipped off my jacket and a part of me loved seeing her inhale as I draped it over her shoulders.

We didn't talk, but it didn't feel awkward because I'd never known Holly to enjoy small talk. It was one of the many things I admired about her as a colleague.

Around us, the streets were busy with people heading home from work and others heading out for the evening. Street vendors were closing down their carts for the night while others opened.

Within minutes we reached the unremarkable brick building where she lived. There was no doorman on duty, and the keycard entry looked pathetically easy to bypass with any hospital ID. I couldn't believe she really lived here. What was wrong with the hospital that their security was so lame? Tomorrow I'd be calling administration. I made significant contributions to the hospital, which I asked to keep it anonymous, but the admin knew the donors' identity.

"Aren't you going to ask me up for ginger ale?" I angled my body to shelter her from the breeze blowing off the East River.

A corner of her mouth quirked. "Malcolm, I know you. I've worked with you daily for the last year. The only reason you could possibly want to see my room is for hot, kinky sex."

I put my hand against the brick wall by her head, trying to block more of the breeze. Goosebumps peppered her bare arms beneath my jacket. But what I really noticed were the hard tips of her nipples pressing against her dress.

"My interest in residential fire safety inspection might not be well known, but it is important nonetheless." I dipped my head lower. Even with her heels, I towered over her.

Holly arched a brow at me. She'd folded her arms across her chest, pushing her breasts higher; the rounded curve of the tops made me want to run my lips across them.

Her lips twitched the way they did when she was suppressing a smile.

She ducked under my arm and slid her keycard into the door. Then she inclined her head for me to follow her.

The elevator's first stop was floor seven. Stepping out on the floor, it had the same antiseptic institutional smell as our department, only slightly less pronounced.

"It's a women's only floor." She glanced over her shoulder to find me staring at her ass.

Before that glance, I had been inspecting the living conditions. I was generous to report they were lacking. With dim lighting and dingy paint, the place was depressing as hell.

We passed a door to the women's showers. At the end of a long hall, she turned at the last door.

"I'll spare you the tour of the communal kitchen and lounge as you're not supposed to be here." She tapped the door to 725. "I'm here, safe and sound."

"You're not going to show me inside?"

Holly tilted her head to the side. In this light, her eyes were more green. "If you're looking to slum it, I'm sure you can find some co-ed at NYU who would happily have sex with you in her dorm room. And it will probably have a private bath, at least."

"I like seeing where you live. It's a whole new side of you." It was true. I had a hunger to know every part of her life that I'd missed.

Annoyance churned at me that I knew next to nothing about Holly besides her favored running shoe brand, and that she liked her pizza with extra pepperoni. Also, she enjoyed cat memes when she was stressed.

Her lips parted slightly. Again I was struck by the strongest impulse to pull her into my arms and kiss her until she fell breathless against me.

Voices down the hall echoed along with the ding of the elevator.

She unlocked her door, pulling me inside by the arm with a force that surprised me. The light was off. "We can get thrown out for having male guests in our rooms." She whispered in the dark.

"How old are you?" I liked the darkness. It wrapped us in our own cocoon. I knew Holly had graduated medical school early, but now I wondered precisely how early?

"I'm twenty-two." She laid her finger against my lips as two female voices grew louder in the hall.

Perfect. I rumbled in appreciation when I wrapped my lips around her finger.

Holly inhaled sharply, clutching my shirt in her fist. I released her finger to pull her into my arms. A breath eased from me.

Now that felt right.

In the hall, two women recapped their evening for several minutes until the sound of their keys and doors eventually rattled. Soon, the hallway grew quiet again.

Holly stepped out of my arms, flipping on the light.

If I thought the lighting was bad in the hallway, I winced.

The narrow room was wide enough to fit a twin bed under the single window with a built-in closet, a desk, and a makeshift bookshelf filled with textbooks. It was painted the same dull gray color as the hallway. There was a handmade quilt on the bed and a few pictures on the window sill.

"Home sweet home," she said softly.

I was stunned to think this was where Holly lived. My downtown townhouse was a palace compared to this.

"Holly," I started. I was unsure of what to say, but I wanted to say something.

"Don't pity me." She shook her head. Her words were low yet fierce. "I didn't bring you here to pity me."

"Why did you bring me here?" I asked.

She flicked off the light. Stepping forward, her hands ran up the front of my shirt.

I pulled her into my arms. This time I had no intention of letting her go easily. It was like I'd held her a million times before. It felt so right.

Her face was upturned to mine and illuminated by a sliver of light from the window. Her voice was quiet, but the words were unmistakable, "After tonight, we'll never mention this again."