Title: How to Save a Surgeon (a Gambling Hearts story)
Genre: Contemporary Romance, novella
Length: 214 pages
Release Date: August 17, 2015
He’s sworn off all women…
When he lost the girl he loved, Dr. Jackson DeMatteo shut down his heart and became the kind of perfectionist surgeon that alienated him from the residents. Now Jackson has a very coveted promotion dangling before him…but it comes with a price. Working with adorably geeky first-year resident Darla Morales is definitely going to cost him. Big time.
She’s just what the doctor ordered…
Completing her trauma residency demands confidence and Darla, who’s already pretty high on the nerd scale, is definitely not confident. Worse still, she’s forced to work with Doctor Dreamy, who makes her even more nervous and defensive. Darla needs to focus on the work and not his bedroom eyes if she ever hopes to become a trauma surgeon.
“It’s not like that,” Darla said. “It’s more like the lady version of wanting to rescue the damsel in distress.”
“The villain isn’t a damsel in distress.”
“But movies don’t make heroes emotionally vulnerable in the same way, and that’s what appeals about the bad guy. It’s not him being evil, it’s his pain. He’s hurt and looking for something. If he just let himself be loved, he could be saved.”
Jackson glanced at the screen. Had they watched the same movie? “Saved from what?”
There was something in the way she said the word. This time he couldn’t resist touching her. His hand cupped her cheek, his thumb stroking her skin. “Are we still talking about the movie?”
“Well, everybody could use a little saving now and then.”
Her eyes closed as she leaned into his touch, and he had the urge to kiss her eyelids and feel the brush of her lashes.
“What do I need saving from?”
His fingers slid from her cheek to the side of her neck, lightly tracing the lines of her body to memorize them through touch. She melted back against the couch and rolled her head, exposing more of her neck to his touch.
She was quiet for so long that he began to wonder if she’d respond at all before her eyes opened a slit. “Being a stick in the mud who only ever wants to do things the same way?”
His fingertips just barely teased behind her ear and at the fine hairs of her nape. It was the lightest touch he could manage without breaking contact, but it still flooded his body with heat. “Is that what you think of me?”
“I’m not sure, but it seems like you try really hard to make people think that.”
He drew his hand away, torn between what he needed to do and what he wanted. “Maybe. I might be compensating a little.”
She licked her lips, her heavy-lidded eyes never wavering from his. “Compensating for what?”
“For occasionally being very, very unprofessional.”