Hot Bodies Boxed Set: The Complete Vital Signs Erotic Romance Trilogy

by Hughes, Jill Elaine

  Shirley decided it was high time she changed the subject. She glanced at the nurse-anesthetist schedule on the wall, noticed her name wasn’t on it. “Well, since it looks like the trouble from yesterday has blown over, I think you can put me back on the OR schedule,” she said. “When do I scrub in? I’m anxious to get back on track.”

  The Dragon Lady sighed and shuffled some papers. “I no have any OR openings until this afternoon. Meantime, you review procedures. Unless you want to go to Labor and Delivery, help on epidurals.”

  Shirley winced. She’d never liked Labor and Delivery. The sight and sound of screaming pregnant women in labor had never appealed to her. “I’ll take a pass on that. Just give me a procedures manual and I’ll get started.”

  “Suit yourself, country girl,” The Dragon Lady sighed, and thrust a heavy procedures binder into her face. “Now get out my office. I busy today.”

  With pleasure, Shirley thought, and headed for the door.

  And ran smack-dab into Dr. Randall Hamm.

  “Pardon me, Shirley,” he said, his expression unreadable—as usual. “I’ve come to speak with your boss.” Shirley made a motion to leave, but Dr. Hamm held up a hand to stop her. “It’s concerning you, Shirley, so you should probably stick around.”

  The Dragon Lady turned eight different shades of green.

  Dr. Hamm plopped down in one of Beth Peking’s hard, uncomfortable chairs. “I hope you don’t mind me dropping by like this unannounced, Ms. Peking, but I got a directive from the President’s office today to spend some orientation time with your new hire here.”

  The Dragon Lady’s face went from green to purple. “O-orientation time? Why? Shirley my employee, so it my job to do orientation, not yours!”

  Dr. Hamm cleared his throat. “Well, yes, under normal circumstances that would be true. But apparently President Chalmers is concerned about the high employee turnover in the nurse-anesthetists’ department—I say that with all due respect to you, Ms. Peking—and since he doesn’t want the nursing shortage at this hospital to get any worse, he is assigning new nurse hires to work directly with senior physician staff as part of a new employee retention program.”

  The Dragon Lady coughed, then appeared to swallow her tongue.

  “Since the directive comes from President Chalmers himself, I take it there will be no objections if I borrow Ms. Daniels for a few hours today?” Dr. Hamm went on. “I know she’s not on the OR schedule today, but then again, I’m not either. I’ll be showing her around some of the more technical areas of the Anesthesiology department, and then I’m thinking I’ll take her to lunch. Strictly business, of course.”

  The Dragon Lady whimpered and sank deep into her chair, almost disappearing behind her desk.

  “Well, Shirley, we best be off, then, before Ms. Peking changes her mind.” Dr. Hamm took her lightly by the arm and led her out into the hallway. He was by far the most upbeat she’d ever seen him, but she still couldn’t read his true feelings or intentions. Dr. Hamm wore his poker face all the time, and today was no exception.

  Shirley’s mind raced with all sorts of ideas of how she might take advantage of this golden opportunity. She’d become quite adept at seduction, after all—after all the sexual adventures she’d gotten into lately, getting Dr. Randall Hamm into her bed ought to be easy. But it just wasn’t that simple. Something about this gorgeous, mysterious man made Shirley clam up on the outside, even as she was heating up on the inside. She felt like a shy, giddy schoolgirl in his presence, and all her hard-won seductress skills just seemed to fly out the window. As she timidly followed him down the hallway towards the bank of elevators, she felt transported back to her teen years—her limbs and belly tingling with hormones, her mind addled by desires she was too young and inexperienced to understand.

  She might not be young and inexperienced any more, but when it came to a man like Dr. Randall Hamm, Shirley might as well be a virgin wallflower. She was way out of her league, and she knew it.

  “Well, Shirley, I must say I was a little surprised when President Chalmers asked me to be your orientation buddy,” Dr. Hamm said as he pressed the “DOWN” button on the elevator. “But I can see where he’s coming from setting up a program like this. We’ve really had a problem with employee turnover among the nurses, especially the nurse-anesthetists. But if you ask me, the best thing this hospital can do to retain nurse-anesthetists is fire Beth Peking. As I’m sure you’ve already figured out by now, that woman’s a real piece of work.”

  Shirley’s mouth had gone cotton-dry from nervousness and excitement, so all she managed in response was a guttural “Mmm-hmmm.”

  The elevator arrived. Dr. Hamm stepped right on, seemed to pay no notice to the fact that Shirley was actually trembling now, that her forehead was dappled with a light coating of sweat. It was a damned good thing that the man didn’t have X-ray vision, because if he did, he also would have noticed the fact that Shirley’s panties were soaked through with pussy juice. And it was only a matter of time before the crotch of her blue scrubs started showing a wet spot, too.

  Shirley followed him onto the elevator. Dr. Hamm started droning on about some mundane new technique of intravenous anesthesia administration, but Shirley didn’t hear a word he said. She was too busy trying to keep from crying out as the sexual tension built and built between her legs, threatening to spill over the floodgates and bring her to climax without him even laying a finger on her. Even with his wooden demeanor and impenetrable, businesslike façade, the man was a walking, talking sex machine. Just breathing the same air that he did was enough to bring a woman to orgasm.

  And then, just as soon as Shirley thought she’d managed to get a hold of herself, the elevator lurched, the lights flickered, and Shirley toppled forward into Dr. Randall Hamm’s chiseled arms.

  That did it. Shirley bit her tongue to keep from crying out as a series of intense pleasure-spasms wracked her body from head to toe.

  Shirley had read about women having spontaneous orgasms in romance novels, but she never thought it could actually happen in real life. But she supposed where Dr. Randall Hamm was concerned, anything was possible.

  Dr. Hamm gently grasped her forearms and set her upright just as the elevator started moving again. “Are you all right, Shirley?”

  She managed a small nod. Her cunt was still on fire, and threatening to go over the edge once again. The feel of his hands against her body, even through the rough fabric of her scrubs, was pure electricity.

  Dr. Hamm abruptly let her go, as if he’d touched something hot. Probably because he had. Shirley’s whole body was up in flames.

  “Looks like we got stuck for a minute there,” he said. “They really need to replace these old elevators. We’re lucky we didn’t get stuck.”

  Shirley grumbled something unintelligible. She didn’t think they were lucky the elevator wasn’t stuck—quite the opposite. She had a feeling that if it had gotten stuck for a good long while, she just might have had an opportunity to seduce Dr. Hamm for real, instead of having his mere presence send her body into uncontrollable orgasmic fits. Not that she was complaining, but—

  “Shirley, are you sure you’re all right? You look a little—ahem—flushed.”

  Flushed? How kind of him to notice. Of course she was flushed, damn it. She’d just had two orgasms from standing next to the guy. “I’m ahhhh—I’m just a little claustrophobic, is all,” she lied just as the elevator made it to the lower level and the doors slid open.

  “Well, all that’s good to know. I was getting worried about you. Thought you might be having a fainting episode or something.”

  Oh, I’m having an episode, all right, she mused. She ground her teeth in frustration as she followed Dr. Randall Hamm into a large vaultlike room filled with medical equipment.

  “If you’ll just follow me, Shirley, I’d love to give you a sneak peak at the new chemical vaporizer that’ll be getting installed in the main OR next month. It’ll really improve our procedures
for delivering inhaled anesthesias.” Dr. Hamm rubbed his hands together, as if he were anticipating a gourmet meal. For the first time ever, Shirley noticed that he seemed genuinely excited about something.

  A lightbulb flickered on inside her brain. So that’s what makes this guy tick, she thought. Technology.

  Well, that could be interesting. Very interesting.

  If only she knew more about it.

  Dr. Hamm wandered through the rows of dusty equipment and scattered metal boxes until he came upon a large tanklike device covered in buttons and sophisticated electronic panels. “Here it is,” he said. “The Avery Intubator/Aspirator 6-5000. Isn’t it beautiful?”

  “Well, it’s a machine,” Shirley chirped. She didn’t realize sterile plastic-and-metal medical machines could be beautiful. But Dr. Hamm was right—it was beautiful. It was sleek, almost like a piece of Art Deco architecture—beautifully designed with polished chrome trim and glossy polished enamel instead of the drab beige plastic and dull, blocky builds of more traditional medical machines. Instead of the familiar flashing red numbers and circa-1980s digital displays Shirley was used to seeing, the machine had crystal LCD displays in full color, and the ability to calibrate and distribute anesthesia doses at the touch of a single button. Best of all, the machine was self-explanatory—no more wasting rime in week-long training sessions every time the hospital upgraded its equipment. No wonder Dr. Hamm had fallen in love with it.

  Now, if only she could make him fall in love with her.

  Dr. Hamm ran his hand up and down the sleek, polished side of the machine. The man was actually caressing it. Shirley never thought she’d see the day that the sight of a man touching an inanimate piece of medical equipment would turn her on—but lo and behold, it was happening.

  “There’ll be a training seminar on the new machine next week,” Dr. Hamm said, delicately running his fingers along a piece of polished chrome. “But I wanted you to get a chance to see it sooner. It’s really going to make your job easier. And mine, too.”

  “I—I can see that,” Shirley stammered, still staring at Dr. Hamm’s fingertips as they did their delicate little dance on the edge of the machine. She closed her eyes, imagined the feel of those fingers on her cunt as they made the same motions on the most intimate parts of her body as they were on that damned inanimate object—ooooooooohhhhh.

  A light tap on her shoulder jerked her out of her reverie. “Shirley, are you all right? You seem a little distracted.”

  A little distracted? Well, that was the understatement of the century. “Like I said before, I’m just a little claustrophobic,” she lied. “It’s just very cramped down here, is all.” In truth, the huge room wasn’t cramped at all, but she was running out of excuses.

  Dr. Hamm just shrugged. “Well, I guess we can go back upstairs, then. How about we take a break for lunch? Maybe stroll the grounds? The hospital has lovely grounds. I encourage all my residents to take walks in the fresh air whenever they can. Helps clear the lungs. And God knows we inhale a lot of unhealthy fumes in our line of work.”

  Shirley nodded. She’d left the OR dizzy from anesthesia fumes more times than she could count. And she was feeling plenty dizzy this morning too—for reasons that had nothing to do with her job. “That sounds like fun,” she managed, then took several long, slow deep breaths in a futile attempt to get a hold of herself. All that did was make her feel lightheaded. That combined with the fact her entire lower half was on fire made for a very dangerous combination.

  Why, oh why did she let President Chalmers talk her into this whole charade? As much as she wanted to get closer to Dr. Randall Hamm, she was beginning to wonder if maybe the man was hazardous to her health.

  In a daze, she followed Dr. Hamm back to the bank of elevators. The walk through the hospital lobby and out to the grounds was a blur—Shirley was only able to keep herself steady by fixing her gaze at the level of Dr. Hamm’s ankles. If her eyes strayed any higher, she’d see the curve of his powerful calves, the rippling of his powerful back and shoulders underneath his scrubs—and she’d be done for.

  Before she could realize what was happening, she found herself strolling underneath a grape arbor laden with blooming mountain azaleas. A clump of flowering honeysuckle grew just to her left, filling the air around her with its heady sweet scent. Dr. Hamm paused underneath the arbor and took a long, deep breath.

  Shirley paused for a moment and did the same. The perfume of the honeysuckle and azaleas helped to jolt her back to reality a bit—the pungent odor was both delightful and shocking at the same time. It reminded her of just how sensual she was feeling—in Dr. Randall Hamm’s presence, all her senses were heightened, all her emotions on edge. Every second she spent walking next to him reminded her of just how much her body ached for his touch. Every cell of her body buzzed with desire, cried out for his touch.

  And yet, the man remained oblivious to her. The only things that seemed to interest him were machinery and medical procedures. Even the beautiful garden surroundings only served to remind him of his medical duties. “Nothing like the smell of North Carolina in the springtime,” he said. “Always helps me refocus after a long day in the OR. Say, have you had a chance to read up on the latest developments in quick-release intravenous deep anesthetics?”

  “Uhhh, no.”

  “You should. They’ve got the half-lives on some of the new drugs down to a matter of seconds. It’s actually possible now to bring somebody back to consciousness in five seconds or less. Who needs a recovery room with that kind of turnaround?”

  The man was maddening. Didn’t Dr. Randall Hamm ever just stop to smell the roses? Didn’t he ever notice anything that didn’t have to do directly with his job? Like her, for instance?

  Things just couldn’t go on like this. If they did, Shirley might lose her mind.

  She had to change the subject, and fast. “Umm, Dr. Hamm, why don’t you tell me a little bit about yourself? Do you have any hobbies?”

  He gave her a blank look. “Hobbies? What do you mean?”

  Really, the man was too much. “You know. Things you enjoy doing when you aren’t working.”

  Another blank look. “But I’m always working.”

  “I’m sure you take a day off every now and then. What do you do on your days off?”

  He paused to think. “Well, whenever I have a day off, I usually use it to catch up on reading medical journals.”

  Shirley rolled her eyes. “Don’t you ever do anything fun?”

  His eyes widened. “Fun? What do you mean?”

  Shirley laughed out loud. The guy was wound up tighter than a cheap watch. “You know. What do you do to just enjoy yourself? What do you do to unwind?”

  He sighed. “Well, I do happen to enjoy my work. That’s fun enough for me.”

  “Don’t you ever just take time away from work? Don’t you ever go to the movies? Concerts? Plays? Or don’t you ever go hiking? Horseback riding? Sailing? Watercolors? Racquetball? Jogging? Anything?”

  “Well, I do work out at the gym five days a week. But I consider that a necessity, not a hobby.”

  You’d have to, with that hot bod, Shirley mused. “Well, I guess that’s better than nothing,” she said. “Anything else?”

  His eyes narrowed, suspicious. “What’s with the third degree all of a sudden? Did somebody put you up to this? Chalmers, maybe?”

  Damn it. He was on to her already. “Umm, no,” she lied, backpedaling. “You just seem—forgive me for saying this—kind of antisocial, is all. I was just wondering if maybe you had any kind of life outside the hospital, since you don’t seem too keen on making friends while you’re at work.”

  Now he looked hurt. “But I thought we were friends, Shirley.”

  Well, that was unexpected. “W-we are,” she stammered. “But we can hardly be friends when I don’t know anything about you.”

  That seemed to throw him for a loop. “I don’t know anything about you, either,” he retorted. He backed away
from her slowly, as if she were carrying a deadly weapon.

  “There’s no need to get so defensive,” she said. What on earth was the man hiding? “I just want to get to know you better, that’s all. Maybe this is news to you, Dr. Hamm, but getting to know each other is what friends do.”

  He relaxed, but still eyed her suspiciously. “Fair enough. I just don’t like it when people come at me with a bunch of questions, is all.”

  “Well, generally that’s what people do when they want to get to know one another better—ask questions.” She studied the lines and angles on his handsome face, trying to decipher what might lie beneath. “You know, Dr. Hamm, this is probably rude of me, but how in the hell did you get to be Chief of Anesthesiology when you have almost no social skills?”

  His left eyebrow raised. “What do you mean, almost no social skills?”

  She crossed her arms just below her bosom and smirked. “I say almost because you’re actually pretty cool—when you want to be. You can even be funny sometimes. Like when we first met.”

  One corner of his mouth tipped upward, ever so slightly. “Thanks for noticing.”

  “Well, it’s pretty hard not to notice you, Dr. Hamm.” As if anybody could fail to notice a man who looked like a genetically engineered blend of George Clooney and Brad Pitt.

  “Call me Randall, please.” Then he coughed, seemed to catch himself. “In private only, of course.”

  “Of course.” Feeling more at east than she had in quite a while, Shirley found a small white garden bench beside the grape arbor and sat down. She patted the space beside her, inviting Randall to join her there. After a moment’s hesitation, he did. “Look, Randall. I know for a fact that there’s a very nice guy lurking somewhere underneath that aloof exterior of yours. I’ve seen a glimpse of him here and there, so you might as well stop trying to hide him from me.”

  Randall’s expression softened, and his slate-blue eyes even twinkled a bit. “Well, Shirley, I must say you are a most unusual woman.”

  She locked her eyes with his, and felt her stomach quaver a bit. “Oh? And what makes you say that?”