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room.
    Joanna plodded down the hallway towards the main nurses’ station, grinding her teeth. What a mortifying nursing shift she’d just had! Not only was she getting screwed out of the precious time off the hospital had been promising her for months, she’d managed to screw her new boss’ brains out, too. And now, the man whom she’d bestowed her precious sexual favors upon was screwing around with her mind—pretending like the whole thing never happened at all!
    Joanna’s stomach churned at the notion of having to set eyes on Dr. Harlan Wilkinson again. At one level, the man made her sick. And at another, the man made her want to take her panties off in public.
    It was enough to make a girl get all hot and bothered.
    As much as Joanna wanted to dash out of the hospital (so she could crawl under the nearest rock and die), that was impossible. With two hours left on her shift, Joanna had to get back to work, like it or not—or else Mr. Personality just might make good on his promise to write her up for disciplinary action.
    Joanna shuddered to think at just what that writeup would look like in her Personnel file.
    It would probably go something like this: “I, Harlan Wilkinson, MD, wish to formally reprimand Joanna Watson, RN, for getting snippy with me in the OR because I pretended we hadn’t just fucked each others’ brains out five minutes before conducting our first surgical operation together.”
    That wouldn’t exactly help her come annual raise time, would it?
    Joanna made a mental note to start working on her resume.
    ****
    The rest of Joanna’s shift passed without incident. She remained on call at her station just outside the main operating room, in a fresh set of sterile scrubs just in case she should be called back in for any emergency surgeries. She kept her eyes glued to a television mounted on the recovery room wall, staring at the late-night infomercial it blared at full volume in hopes that it would serve as enough stimulus to keep her awake for just a few hours more. By 1:45 am, her eyes were bloodshot, her eyelids heavy, and her head was throbbing with a migraine.
    Her crotch was throbbing, too. Her body was making it clear to her that it wanted another dose of the very special medicine that Dr. Harlan Wilkinson had served up to her in the elevator hours before.
    Damn it. That was the last thing she needed right now.
    At 1:57, Joanna figured she was safe to pack up and go home. She was exhausted. And even if she got home quickly, she’d only have about five hours to sleep before having to report back to the hospital for her next regular shift.
    Joanna flipped the television off and started walking back towards the nurses’ locker room to gather her things. But she hadn’t made it three steps before she heard a gruff voice echo on the linoleum just behind her.
    “You still have two minutes left on your shift, Watson.”
    Joanna spun around. Harlan’s azure eyes were bright as lasers even in the dimmed hallway lights, and they bore into her like knives. “Oh, come on, Doctor. I’ve been on duty for sixteen straight hours. Two minutes aren’t that big a deal at this point—“
    Harlan’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, they are. In medicine, every minute—every second —counts. Those two extra minutes you spend hightailing it out of here could be the difference between life and death for a patient who arrives in the surgery department with a hemorrhaging artery.”
    “With all due respect, Doctor, I don’t see any hemorrhaging patients hereabouts,” Joanna replied coolly. “Do you?”
    “That’s beside the point,” he said, taking a step closer to her. Even from more than ten feet away, she could swear she felt the heat rising from his body against the bare skin of her forearms, making her break out into girlish goose pimples. She absently rubbed at her arms—which only turned them into giant erogenous zones.
    “Watson, what I’m trying to emphasize here is that I expect 100% from my