Escalation Clause (Stewart Realty Series)

by Crowe, Liz

  Escalation Clause

  By

  Liz Crowe

  Escalation Clause (Stewart Realty, Book 6)

  A Sizzlin’ Book published by permission of the author

  Copyright © 2012 Liz Crowe

  Cover Art Copyright 2012 by Mina Carver

  All rights reserved.

  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced

  in any form without permission.

  For more information: Sizzlin’ Books

  a division of Tri Destiny Publishing

  P.O. Box 330 Arcola, IL 61910

  Visit our website at www.sizzlinbooks.com

  ISBN: 978-0-9859911-4-2

  Sizzlin’ Books are published by Tri Destiny Publishing

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  If you are reading this book and you did not purchase it, win this copy during a promotion or, if not purchased specifically for your use only, then please delete this copy, notify us at copyrights@sizzlinbooks.com. We encourage you to purchase your own copy and support the author’s hard work in their craft.

  Liz Crowe Titles from Sizzlin’ Books:

  Stewart Realty Series:

  Floor Time

  Sweat Equity

  Closing Costs

  Essence of Time

  Conditional Offer

  Standalone Titles:

  Vegas Miracle

  Paradise Hops

  Coming Soon:

  Honey Red

  Man On (The Black Jack Gentlemen Book 1)

  You can find out more about Liz Crowe and her books

  (including a complete backlist) on her website: www.lizcrowe.com

  Sizzlin’ Books - A division of Tri Destiny Publishing www.sizzlinbooks.com

  Dear Intrepid Reader,

  Welcome to Book six of the Stewart Realty series! Thanks for sticking with Jack, Sara and the gang this far.

  I have a few specific people to thank so bear with me a second before diving in.

  Writing a book is a solitary process, lonely, fraught with moments of “oh my god I suck at this,” interspersed with the odd fist pump of “damn I nailed that one.” However, once the book is written, the work has only just begun. My process is nothing without the help of several people. Thanks are due to Mina Carter, for her incredible patience with cover art. And to my various editors at every level from content and lines to galleys – a million thanks for not letting me repeat myself too much but allowing me to speak with my voice.

  A thousand shout outs to all the members of the Pink Boots Gang – the Liz Crowe Street Team and those of you who go above and beyond the call with your posts, tweets, pins, tumbling, reviews and general support helping spread the word. Our group on Facebook: Romance for Real Life is a great place, thanks to all your support, comments, and willingness to be involved in promoting and assisting the Liz voice get heard above the all the noise of the publishing world. Alyssa, Denise, Angie, Molly, Carole, Christine, Lori, Effie, Susan, Stephanie, Jeanne, Janet, Marika, Ashley, Ethan, Sheri, Trista, Rob, John, and many others – Muchas Gracias.

  And finally, a loud standing ovation for Jessica Warth –publisher, editor, advisor, calmer-downer, picker-upper, ass-kicker and great listener. Without you, NONE of this would be possible.

  So now, enjoy the journey kids, and remember – if you have picked this book up before reading the first 5, take my advice: put it down and start with Floor Time, Sweat Equity, Closing Costs, Essence of Time and Conditional Offer FIRST – you will not be sorry!

  Cheers,

  Liz

  October 7, 2012

  Contents

  Cover Page

  Copyright

  Other Titles

  Note from Author

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Epilogue

  Coming Soon

  Author Biography

  Prologue

  The hard edge of the utilitarian sink bit into the back of Beth’s thighs as Matthew pressed his lips down on hers. Panic warred with lust, all tangled in a huge web of worry that someone would find them here in the ladies’ room, frantic that she was becoming one more notch in Dr. Thornton’s belt, but completely unable to stop kissing him back. He released her hair from the stern tie back as his fingers entwined in its tangles. She fought herself, but kept responding, pulling him closer, loving the firm, forbidden press of him. Until the glint of her engagement ring caught her eye. She pushed him away, breathing hard, staring into the dim light of the early morning.

  The grey institutional space that was the fifth floor staff ladies’ room cast an eerie pall over his sharp, handsome features. His eyes were darker than their usual soft brown as he gazed at her. “Beth, you are amazing,” he tugged her close, his touch lighting yet more fires that she was determined to extinguish. “The way you called that abruption,” he shook his head. “You saved that woman and her baby, you know that.”

  Dizzy from having him so close, she closed her eyes, trying to picture Ethan, her fiancé. Matthew chose that moment to reestablish the kiss and dug deep into her psyche with his lips and tongue. She arched into him, unable to stop herself. Dr. Matthew Thornton had barely acknowledged her existence until a few days ago. As chief resident in obstetrics and gynecology at the University of Michigan hospital, it was his job to ignore her—a lowly intern on her OB rotation.

  Everyone knew about him. His tall, boyish good looks and irresistible flirtatious manner reduced all sorts of women to simpering girls. Beth Bishop was one of the few females accepted into the highly competitive internship program at U of M, and she was determined to prove her worth to all of the male doctors and the surly nurses. She’d been just one of a crowd of rookies who hung onto his every word, watching him not only solve medical problems but also charm the women who were his patients and the nurses constantly at his beck and call.

  He’d been picking on her lately, had called her out several times, embarrassing her by catching her unable to answer a clinical question, or scribbling in her pocket-sized notebook. With a constant stream of snide comments about her presence among the high and mighty men of the group, he did nothing but make her despise him, his gargantuan ego, and his fan club.

  When the young pregnant woman had walked into the ER around eleven that night, showing classic symptoms of preeclampsia, Dr. Asshole had dismissed her with a wave of his hand. Beth had been furious.

  “Elevate her feet for a while, monitor her fluid intake, then send her
home on bed rest,” he had prescribed, barely even looking at her or her wide-eyed husband.

  Beth had paid close attention to the woman, patting her hand and reassuring her that this was not severe and that all would be well. Thornton signed her release after a couple of hours, against Beth’s better judgment.

  “Doctor,” she’d tried to keep the angry high pitch out of her voice. “I believe this woman needs to be admitted for observation.”

  “No, doctor,” he snidely emphasized her new title. “These women eat too much salt and swell up and their blood pressure gets a bit high and they panic. It’s not always life or death. Send her home.”

  By five a.m., when Beth was about to head home herself, the woman was back, dizzy, nauseous, and spotting. Beth whisked her past the triage nurse and into a curtained area, paging Dr. Thornton back from whatever or whomever he was doing. She had the woman’s urine sample analyzed and results returned by the time Matthew honored them with his presence.

  “She’s spilling proteins and her BP is even higher than before,” Beth began, as he grabbed the paperwork out of her hands. “Magnesium drip, stat,” he ordered, hoping to stave off seizures as they both watched the woman begin to fade in and out of consciousness. Her body shook relentlessly, as her husband watched in horror. Matthew held her shoulders, Beth her ankles, as the nurse tried to insert the IV.

  “Doctor, I think you need to see this,” Beth motioned for him to join her at the woman’s feet. The bed underneath her was completely blood-soaked. “Abruption; it has to be,” she yelled, unable to stop herself. He glared as she demanded that the nurse phone surgery and prepare a room immediately for a C-section—the only way to save the baby and, hopefully, the mother.

  “I’ll take her myself,” he declared, brushing past the woman’s teary-eyed husband.

  Matthew stared at Beth over the unconscious woman, before the elevator doors slid shut, cutting Beth off from the patient. Even though desperately in need of sleep, she stayed around to find out how the baby and mother fared. She nodded off in a chair in the fifth floor break room, startled awake by a hand on her shoulder. Matthew briskly pulled her up to her feet, and to her complete surprise, swept her into his arms.

  “Mom and baby are fine. Her BP is down, the bleeding stopped. They are alive, thanks to you,” he whispered into her hair.

  She shivered, both at the shock from being woken so suddenly and by his sheer physical presence. She struggled away from him, uneasy but already reacting in a way she wanted very much to reject. His strong arms wrapped around her, lips hovered near her ear. A brief vision of her fiancée flashed through her brain. Ethan Macintosh, the man whose proposal she’d just accepted was a young, smart, romantic guy and completely in love with her. He was finishing his residency in neurosurgery in Ohio. But Dr. Thornton, the notorious, brilliant, handsome, charming chief resident was holding her in his arms and was, if she were not mistaken, about to kiss her. Scarier still—she wanted him to, badly.

  “That’s great, um, glad I could help,” she broke away, stammering. “You know, I’m really tired, so….” He grabbed her before she could finish and kissed her deeply, forcing her lips open to accept him, holding her head in both of his hands. What small reserve of will power she possessed faded like fog in direct sunlight.

  He broke away just as she was allowing herself to enjoy it. “I have been wanting to kiss you since you stepped into this hospital,” he whispered into her neck. She propped herself against the counter, willed herself to remain calm and in control, and tried to find anything like a real answer to that news tidbit. Giving up on that, she ran her fingers through his hair and brought her lips near his once more.

  They jumped away from each other when the staff room door was opened by a couple of interns. Beth felt herself flush up to the tips of her ears. She knew everyone was used to Dr. Thornton cornering women all around the hospital. Shit, she’d been in on the jokes and innuendo herself. The two men paid them no attention, pulled stuff from their lockers, and made their way out.

  Matthew didn’t take his eyes from her the entire time. She tried to look casual, as if she were not yet a few moments away from becoming another conquest for the infamous ladies’ man. Once they were gone, he pulled her into the adjoining staff women’s restroom, flipping the door locked behind them. She backed up into the sinks, “I can’t do this. I’m engaged,” she told him as he advanced, realizing the stupidity of the statement the second it left her lips.

  “Yeah, I know,” he said, pulling the rest of the pins out of her hair as if it were the most natural thing in the world, allowing it to flow down over her shoulders. “You are a gorgeous, incredible woman, Beth. Don’t waste yourself on him,” he said, his eyes dark with lust.

  She made a half-hearted attempt to push him away. “You don’t even know him, Matthew,” she protested.

  “Don’t need to,” he whispered, as he reached out to pull her close again. “Let me show you what you’re missing,” he whispered into her ear. “Then you can decide for yourself.” He pulled her close again, pressing his lips against hers, hard and demanding.

  His voice, his words, the closeness of his lean strength set off something deep inside her that she hardly recognized. She reached up, pulled him to her. Their tongues collided. His hands moved down her back and then up to her breasts, pulling her bra up to get at her nipples. She was no virgin, but Ethan’s attentions had left her lukewarm at best. She had never, ever felt anything like the urgency claiming her now.

  Matthew bent down, grasped her nipple between his lips making her arch up and her leg move of its own accord, finding its way around his waist. She gripped the sink behind her to brace herself as he continued to suck on her aching flesh. She shuddered, recognizing a throb in areas she had previously viewed clinically, all modestly lost in her body’s search for release.

  He made his slow way back up to her neck and then to her lips once more. She sensed his smile against her skin. Anger rose in her throat. She grasped his shoulders, pushed him back, still on fire with need but determined to stop this before it was too late. “I am not in your fan club you know,” she hissed at him, breathless, as she attempted to reassemble her shirt.

  “My what?” He said, voice hoarse, his eyes dark with desire. He took a step back, arms crossed.

  “You know, the groupies, the nurses, the ones who worship you night and day,” she held him off with one arm. “Actually, I really don’t like you…doctor. I think you are an arrogant asshole,” she declared.

  He grinned, melting what remained of her resolve. “Good. I like a challenge.” He grabbed her waist and plopped her up on the sink. “And the name’s Matthew.” He was gentle but firm, and watched her through hooded eyes. She could smell her desire, his cologne, the disinfectant tang of hospital she had grown used to. She gave into it. Closing her eyes, loving his touch, she spread her legs further, her brain screaming at her to stop but the rest of her ignoring the orders.

  “Open your eyes, Beth. Look at me,” his voice was barely a whisper.

  She obeyed, her breathing now in gasps as she maneuvered to allow him better access. He lowered his lips to her nipple again. She threaded her fingers in his hair, crying out as she rode out an orgasm more intense than anything she’d experienced in her short sexual history.

  She stared at him as he put the fingers he’d just had inside her between his lips. A strange sense of shock overtook her. He seemed to radiate heat—burning and chilling her at once. Her brain did a final yelp of dismay, then gave up the ghost. She let her body lead, used her legs to pull him back to her, reached down to unbuckle his belt. All of this in a haze of confusion and lust that had her skin blazing and her teeth chattering.

  He closed his eyes as she rubbed his shaft from base to tip, slowly, loving its heft and wetness on the tip. “Please. I…I want you inside me.” She shut her eyes, hoping he wouldn’t zip himself back up and push her out of the room for sounding like some kind of slut.

  He chu
ckled low in his throat bringing any of her remaining dormant nerve endings to strict attention. “I have every intention of doing that, Beth,” he said, as he slid her hips back toward him, inexorable, and perfect. She suppressed her initial groan of satisfaction as he filled her with a long, deep stroke. She reached around for his ass, pulling him inside faster. “Slow down, slow down,” he insisted, leaning down to kiss her again.

  Her entire universe coalesced around the moment. The sensations of his tongue in her mouth, his lips tracing hers, and his cock buried deep inside her were almost too overwhelming. She wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. Her entire being flexed, grabbed his length, pulling him ever deeper, as a primal noise built in her throat.

  His thrusts had purposeful energy now, hard and strong. She met him halfway, needing more, faster. She tilted her head back, letting her hair fall. He grasped her there, threading fingers through it, his lips burning the skin of her neck. “Beth,” he groaned. “Jesus…I’m ….” As the orgasm lifted her up and carried her off he reached his own climax, their bodies intertwined, their breathing ragged.

  “Kiss me, Matthew.” She blurted out, wanting nothing more at that moment but afraid she’d ruined it by talking.

  He smiled, and did as she asked, then broke away first staring at her so intently she felt even more exposed. When he spoke his voice was hoarse. “Damn, Beth, I never thought…,” she put her fingers over his lips.

  “Our secret, okay?” she insisted as her brain woke up and resumed its clamor for better decision-making. “I’m engaged, remember?” Her brain short-circuited, picturing this scene, his trousers down around his ankles, her skirt hiked up, as he leaned into her on the sink in the staff bathroom. She pushed him away. “I gotta go,” she muttered, completely mortified by her behavior. He backed away from her, zipped himself up.