Page 4 of Bad Medicine

“Well...” He smirked at me, dropping his arms and walking toward me, his hand landing on my ass as he pulled me close. “We did have a very busy night.” I shivered as Greg leaned over me, dragging his nose up my neck and then latching his teeth onto my ear lobe. “Are you sure you need to leave so soon? We could go for round four.” Pulling back, he flashed me a devil’s smile. “Or was it five.”

“It was a great night,” I said, drawing myself out of his hold and trying to move toward the door. “But I do have to get going.”

“Mia,” Greg called before I could exit the bedroom. Clutching my purse close to my chest, I turned slowly, trying to keep my face neutral. “We had fun last night, but you need to know this was a one-time thing.”

Thank fuck.

“Of course, Greg.”

“I don’t do repeats,” he continued, his ego practically choking me. “And even if I did, I’m leaving town for a while.” I feigned surprise. “A long while.”

“Oh, alright. I get it.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

I stared at him for a second longer, then left, doing my very best not to actually run from the room. When I reached the bottom of the stairs, he called me again, and this time, I let out a squeak of fear when I realized he was right behind me.

“You sure you’re alright?”

No.

“Absolutely.”

“Good.” He nodded, his pale eyes looking even colder in the morning light. “Make sure you use the back door.”

Right. The one farthest away from the scene of the crime.

So I did. I left through the back door.

Then I left the street, and then the block, and then the neighborhood altogether.

By the time I made it home, I had almost convinced myself the whole thing hadn’t happened.

There was no way I would ever tell anyone what I had seen. Not in a million years.

As far as I was concerned, Greg was gone, and I was home free.

At least, I thought I was.

Until, six weeks later, when I saw those two pink lines.

Chapter one

Mia

“Dr. Carmichael. Paging Dr. Carmichael.”

I paused, my hand on the door to the doctors’ locker room, and closed my eyes with a groan.

Would this day never end?

Turning from the locker room door—and my first stop on the way home for the day—I made my way back down the hall and to the nurses’ station. Donna sat there, a stack of charts in front of her, and shot me an apologetic smile, her eyes darting to the man standing beside her.

“Mia,” he said, his too white teeth making his smile look more like a shark than a man. “I was hoping I’d catch you before you left.”

“And you did,” I replied, not having the patience to play his game today. I didn’t even know what he was doing down here; it wasn’t often the plastic surgeons descended from upon high to mingle with us common folk. “What can I do for you Dr. Edwards?”