Page 28 of One Reckless Night

“I got the fucking tumor!” I announced.

“Congratulations. That’s great news.” She smiled at me like she meant it.

“Thanks.”

“Do you typically go out and celebrate after a successful surgery?”

I shook my head. Gemma knew exactly what I liked to do. “No. Not always.”

“Well, congratulations, anyway.”

I should just turn and walk away. But I didn’t want to leave. Her smile was extra inviting, as was the way her breasts strained against her blouse like they were begging to be free. “You know, you don’t have to spend your entire life in this lab. You’re allowed to have a life outside of work.”

She glanced at me, the smile gone. “This is where I need to be.”

“Why?” I asked. The question came out sharper than I intended. It was the residual frustration from dealing with Gemma. The woman was a great surgeon but a terrible person. “What’s so important that it can’t wait until morning?”

She looked like she wanted to kick my ass. “Not everyone chooses this career path for the glory, fame, and awards, Jared. Some of us actually care about the work.”

I stared at her, taken aback by the venom in her voice. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” she said, stepping closer, “that not all of us are in this for the ego boost. Some of us have real reasons for doing what we do. I have no desire to be some ego-tripping wannabe god.”

I felt a flicker of anger, making me rise to her challenge. “And what’s your reason, Amelia? What’s so important that you’re willing to throw away your life for it? It’s not healthy to spend all your time in a lab.”

She hesitated, her expression faltering for a moment. But then she squared her shoulders, her eyes blazing. “That’s none of your business. My health is just fine, thank you.”

I stepped closer, my frustration and curiosity warring with each other. “Isn’t it? You work for me. I think I have a right to know what’s driving you. What’s got you spending every waking minute in here?”

She shook her head. “You don’t get to know everything, Jared. Not everyone is an open book like you.”

I stared at her, my chest tight with emotions I couldn’t quite untangle. It was the adrenaline from the successful surgery and frustration and white-hot desire. I knew what was coming, but I told myself it was the wrong move.

But fuck it. Before I could stop myself, I kissed her.

It wasn’t gentle or sweet. It was heated, intense, fueled by all the tension that had been building between us. For a moment, she froze. I thought I’d made a mistake. I expected to get kneed in the nuts or slapped across the face. Or both. But then she kissed me back, her hands gripping my shirt as she pulled me closer.